A Will and a Way (12 page)

Read A Will and a Way Online

Authors: Maggie Wells

BOOK: A Will and a Way
2.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Unperturbed, he accelerated smoothly. “Pull your skirt up. I want to see you.”

“You want to see me?” A blush scalded her cheeks. She stared at his profile, torn between offense and arousal, and desperately trying to figure out if he knew she was still going commando.

Lowering his hand to her thigh, he inched the fabric of her dress higher. “See you. Touch you.”

She batted at his hand, but still he persisted.

“I want to know how wet you are. I have to be inside you.”

The rusty creak in his voice sapped the fight right out of her. Betty let her hand fall away, but she refused to help him hike her dress up to kingdom come.

“Will—”

He must have given up on the ‘seeing’ part of the plan because he slid that marauding hand up under the hem, straining the fabric to its limits in his quest to get to her. Betty gasped when he tickled her inner thigh, her legs automatically parting just long enough for him to slip his hand between them before she clamped them shut. His chuckle told her he was amused by her too little, too late approach to prudery. She darted a glance at the car in the lane next to them. The sleek black coupe Will drove was too low-slung; anyone could see inside. Mid-evening traffic was still heavy. There were cars all around. Still, his busy fingers revved her motor and a low moan of arousal seeped from her lips.

“I don’t mind telling you I’m a desperate man.”

The light turned green. He barely spared it a glance as the car lurched forward, but his assault on her senses didn’t miss a beat.

“I’ve got condoms stuffed in every pocket. Trust me, if it weren’t for the fact that one of us might slip a disc, I’d pull over and do my best to fuck you blind right here and now.” The sharp edge in his voice matched the clawing need gathering low in her belly. Blunt fingertips moved against her, but restriction of his movements proved to be just as frustrating for her as they were for him. Her legs quivered, weakened by the effort it took to deny the desire he stirred in her.

“Please let me touch you.”

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, spreading her legs as far as she could, beyond caring that he’d find her embarrassingly wet. His fingers fanned over damp, swollen folds. He parted her, gathering that mortifying moisture. She moaned and arched her back, pressing into the caress. Her hair
shuusshed
against the leather headrest when she turned to look at him. Eyelids weighted with desire, she blinked, lost in the scintillating sensation of each illicit stroke. The car’s engine downshifted as hers kicked into high gear. The seatbelt constricted when they jerked to a stop at the next light, the taut nylon rasping one stiff nipple as it stymied her momentum. She moaned when his fingers kept moving.

The glow of the red light warmed his complexion. Long, dark lashes veiled his eyes, but the heat of his stare prickled her skin. A line of intense concentration bisected his brows. His lips parted in undisguised lust as he fingered her hard and fast. She wanted to lick the faint line of his scar. The sound of her short, sharp pants filled the cabin. She held his gaze as he plunged into her time and again, the heel of his hand pressing hard against her mound, teasing her clit with relentlessly indirect pressure. Digging her heels into the floorboard, she surged against him, shameless in her quest to take what he so obviously wanted to give.

Then the light turned green and with a hum of regret, he pulled away. Betty nearly sobbed when he withdrew his hand as well. But rather than wrapping his hand around the wheel, he plunged his fingers into his mouth and sucked greedily.

“Tease.”

“No more playing.” He hooked a sharp right at the end of the block and accelerated down a street lined with pristine craftsman-style homes. “No more fooling around. No more foreplay. I can’t take it anymore.”

He jerked the wheel and the car’s undercarriage scraped the sharp incline at the foot of a narrow drive. She placed a hand on his thigh. His muscles tensed in the most gratifying way.

Looking up at the neat little bungalow, she let out a sigh. “I hope to God and all that’s holy that this is your house, because I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist on a bed this time.”

A two-car garage beckoned at the back of the property, but he mashed the brake the second they drew parallel to the wide front porch. “It’s mine.”

The purr of the engine barely faded into the night before he yanked the key from the ignition and bailed. Seconds later the passenger door opened and he offered his hand. “Now you’re going to be, too.”

 

 

Chapter 9

 

Will led Betty to his front door, his hand spread in the small of her back, and his breath turning to steam in the crisp air. Thick, sweet, sepia-tinted desire pulsed slow and sluggish through her veins. Betty watched with languid detachment as he shoved a key into the lock. Thankfully, the tumblers complied with their haste, falling back with a well-oiled snick that made her heart rate kick up.

She forced herself to exhale as she crossed the threshold into his home. The golden glow of a solitary lamp greeted her. The door swung closed behind them, shutting out the chill and the dark. Her hands fell loose at her sides as a warmth that flowed from someplace other than the air vents wound around her. He pulled her into his arms and all the doubt and worry she’d been running on since he stepped out of his office that afternoon melted away. Heaving a sigh, she tipped her face up to his.

A small, tender smile curved his lips. Gentle fingers traced her jawline. He lowered his head a fraction of an inch, and she swayed against him. Her lips parted and her lids lowered. The pad of his thumb skimmed over her jack hammering pulse.

“Okay?” he asked, his voice deep and husky.

“I think so.”

The whispered reply was infused with so much feeling Betty struggled to label it. Desire, certainly. Excitement. Maybe a tinge of fear? After all, it had been a long time since she’d slept with any man. Since that night at The Pump she’d played out the fantasy in numerous ways, but none of those fantasies could compete with the way he’d completely unraveled her on a dusty desk. And if the man could evoke such a strong reaction in the harsh light of day, she was scared of what he could do to her in the deep, dark night.

“I think you’re perfect.”

She felt his smile even though the kiss was barely more than a glancing blow. He wove his fingers through hers and tucked their clasped hands behind his back, leaving the remnants of that smile tingling on her lips as he led her across the dimly lit foyer to the staircase.

Perfect.

The word swirled inside her, stirring those jumbled feelings until they mixed and melded.

Perfect.

It beat inside her, matching the rhythm of their footfalls on the steps.

Perfect.

But, oh, she wasn’t. She knew she wasn’t. Proved it time and again. But it didn’t matter to him. Wouldn’t matter to him in the least. Her heart rate slowed even as her blood quickened. Will thought she was perfect, but not in the way she’d been trying to be her whole life.

He loosened his grip on her hand and ushered her past him onto the second of two short flights. Acceptance wrapped around her as sure and comforting as his arms. She could feel the heat of his stare on her back, but for once she didn’t allow herself to lament the span of her hips or the generosity of her ass.

He wanted her.

It was as plain and simple as that. The crow’s feet and lines that worried her didn’t seem to bug him. He didn’t care that her butt dusted three-quarters of the desk that afternoon. It didn’t matter to him that her breasts were in a migratory pattern and her bikini line was pushing jungle conditions. She bypassed a bedroom-turned-office and two more closed doors, her sights set on the thin beam of light that streaked the floor at the far end of the corridor.

He wanted her.

And damn it, she was more than ready to let him have her.

Betty stopped in the open doorway, her eyes locked on the slash of golden light that spilled from the partially open closet door. Masculine detritus covered the top of a tall dresser. A pair of reading glasses lay atop the hardback book on his nightstand. His bed was neatly made, but not for long. Bracing her hands on either side of the doorframe, she resisted his gentle urging.

“Unzip me.”

A fission of energy zinged up her spine as he drew the long zipper down. Warm knuckles grazed the small of her back, turning the area into an unexpected erogenous zone. He skimmed his hands up her back, and every ounce of resistance drained from her muscles. Her hands fell to her sides. The dress slipped from one shoulder. He nudged the fabric from the other and the dress pooled around her feet, the soft whoosh of his exhale warming her nape. She barely had time to shiver before he released the clasp of her bra.

“I want you completely bare,” he whispered in her ear. He peeled the thin barrier of silk and lace away, leaving a ripple of goosebumps in his wake and making her nipples tighten until she rode a razor’s edge of pain. She gulped a serrated breath but lost it when he pressed a damp, lingering kiss to the curve of her shoulder. “Naked. In my bed.”

He cupped her breasts, fitting his fingers to their curve and lifting them high. He kneaded and plumped the aching mounds, dragging his mouth over her skin that felt two sizes too small, tracing the line of her neck with his swirling tongue, and chuckling softly against her ear.

“You’re all I’ve thought about since I saw you. I’m going to have you.”

His staccato confession matched the stumbling beat of her heart. Lord, she wanted to be had. She let her head fall back against his shoulder, surrendering to the soft, wet kisses he rained over her skin. “Yes.”

He plucked at her stiff nipples, eliciting gasps of pain that soon melted into moans. A throaty grunt marked the very end of his patience. She stumbled for real when he pushed her away from him.

“The bed,” he said.

Wobbling on her heels, she cast a sidelong glance over her shoulder and tripped into the room. She grasped a bedpost for balance and raised one foot to remove her shoe.

“No. Leave them on.”

The gruff command made her freeze on the spot. Dark intensity blazed in his eyes as he approached. Wrapping one hand around her waist, he pulled her away from the bedpost. A startled laugh bubbled up from inside her when he pushed her down to sit on the edge of the mattress. But instead of following her down onto the midnight blue comforter, he backed away.

“I’ve got to get inside you.”

He murmured almost to himself, steely determination lining the words despite his semi-dazed distraction. Betty watched in rapt fascination as he plunged both hands into the pockets of his suit jacket. Pulling them free, he unfurled his fingers to reveal at least a dozen foil-wrapped condoms. Delighted by the proof of his obsession, she accepted the offerings with a breathy giggle.

Grinning up at him, she raised her eyebrows in a shameless challenge. “I think you should take your clothes off first.”

Will nodded once then peeled back a lapel. He dipped his fingers into the breast pocket of the coat, and her giggle morphed into a full-blown guffaw when he plucked another condom from its confines and added it to the collection cradled in her hands.

“Ambitious.”

His answering smile grew wide and roguish. “I didn’t want to get caught unprepared again.”

He quickly shed the jacket and tossed it in the general direction of the closet. Her fingers curled into her palms as he raised his chin and loosened the knot of his tie. A flash of Will wrapping that length of slippery silk around her wrists, sliding it over tight nipples, or running the length of it between her legs made her feel hot and heavy. The weight of her arousal pressed down on her, anchoring her to his bed and making it impossible to think straight. Somehow, the sight of dark hair curling around his wrist bone became almost unbearably erotic. Her lips parted as he opened his collar button. Shallow puffs of breath stole the moisture from her mouth.

He made short work of the buttons on his shirt. A snowy white undershirt stretched tight across his chest, proving he wasn’t nearly as thoughtful as she was when it came to ease of clothing removal. Staring at the thin cotton, she gave her head a mournful shake. “I liked you enough to leave my panties at home.”

He laughed as he unbuttoned his cuffs. “You’re a great girl.”

The shirt slid from his shoulders. Tangled in his sleeves, he flashed a wicked grin then used some impressive contortion skills to reach the shirt pocket. More condoms. Their laughter mixed and mingled. Seconds later, both shirts hit the floor in a satisfying heap. Betty didn’t bother to mask her frank admiration as she studied his chest and torso. The man seemed to be exempt from middle-age spread. Tantalizing dark hair dusted well-defined-but-not-overly-developed pecs, growing soft and silky as it funneled down his abs and formed the most delicious arrow pointing directly at his fly. The dark wool of his trousers outlined the ridge of his erection. Unable to resist, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to the hard bulge.

Will sucked air between his teeth. A muscle leaped at the corner of his jaw. His rakish smile was long gone. Without a word, he took another step back and wriggled his hands into too-tight pockets. He filled her hands with even more condoms, the sparkle in his eye replaced by a sharp gleam of tenacity as he worked the foil packets free.

The clink of his belt buckle stirred her from her stupor. She looked up at him as he jerked on the zipper. “Did you touch yourself when you thought about me here naked in your bed?” The bold question escaped before she had a chance to think it through, but still she didn’t want to take it back. Her gaze riveted on his fly, she barely registered the movement when he hooked his thumbs into the waistband. “Did you….”

He whisked his pants and shorts down over his hips. His cock sprung from the confines and stole what little breath she had left in her body. A thick vein ran the length of him. The thought of him pulsing against her tongue flooded her senses. A drop of pre-cum glistened on the stretched taut tip. She wet parched lips. A hot rush of certainty filled her.

Other books

Disillusion Meets Delight by Leah Battaglio
Weedflower by Cynthia Kadohata
Brock by Kathi S. Barton
Prisoner of Night and Fog by Anne Blankman
The Ravine by Robert Pascuzzi