Blazing Midsummer Nights (Harlequin Blaze) (14 page)

“Oh.” She was silent for a moment, then whispered, “I’ve been telling myself I can’t have you.”

He stiffened.

“It’s like there are two halves of me, waging this internal battle about whether or not I can let this happen.”

“Which side’s winning?” he asked, lazily stroking her hip, letting his fingertips glide across the high curve of her butt.

“Well, we certainly know which side won this afternoon.”

“That wasn’t one side of your brain or the other,” he assured her. “Something else made that call.”

Her libido.

“Yeah, tell me about it.” She edged closer, until he could feel her warm breath falling against his bare chest. “I can’t seem to be reasonable where you’re concerned.”

“Reason’s overrated,” he told her, brushing his mouth gently against her temple. He dropped a hand across her waist, pulling her a little closer, noting how easy, how soft and slow and right this was. They were melting together, totally in sync, and had barely even touched yet. Because this was just what was supposed to happen, he knew it.

“Your brain doesn’t have to call the shots entirely,” he told her, needing to get this said, “but there is one thing you have to decide.”

“What’s that?”

He stared into her face, hoping she would hear his seriousness. “Whether or not you have a boyfriend. Is it over?”

She tilted her head back to look up at him, her startling eyes almost a midnight-blue in this shadowy lighting. She heard. She understood. She silently acknowledged the wall between them that was going to stay there until she blew it down with a simple decision that was, after this afternoon, definitely overdue.

Finally, slowly and deliberately, she declared, “I don’t, and it’s definitely over.”

Relief flooded through him. That was all she needed to say. Whatever she’d said to Dimitri, whatever she’d explained to her father, however she’d justified it, she’d made her choice.

“But I have to admit,” she added, her voice a little thick, “I am on the lookout for a lover.”

The wicked way she lifted one brow told him exactly who she had in mind.

“Does that mean you were inside checking out your own ass in that thong before you came out here to try seducing me?”

Gasping, she tried to sit up. “I swear I had no idea you were here!”

He grabbed her even as he rolled onto his back, and tugged her back down. “I’m kidding.”

She landed right on top of him…and stayed there. Her laughter faded, and so did the last bit of her resistance. Something had shifted. The mood, certainly, had gone from playful to serious to sultry. But there was something in her eyes and in her smile, a wildness, a sense of determination.

He suddenly realized what it was.

Mimi had been holding back on her own desires for quite a while—since before they’d met, he would imagine. Now she was going to give them free rein.

She knew what she wanted. She wanted him.

And she was about to show him just how much.

8

I
F SOMEONE HAD TOLD
her eight days ago that she would be lying here, outside, preparing to make love with the kind of man she’d only ever fantasized about, Mimi would have laughed in his face. Because, eight days ago, she had been quite sure of what her immediate future looked like.

No, she hadn’t resigned herself to the inevitability of ending up with Dimitri, no matter how much her father had wanted it. But she had certainly been considering the possibility. And if she had never met Xander, she almost certainly would have at least gone to bed with Dimitri, just to know, absolutely, one hundred percent for sure, whether they could have been right for one another.

Now she knew. The answer was no, they weren’t. It hadn’t taken going to bed with him; it had just taken someone else showing her he could make her forget any other man existed.

Looking down at Xander, stunned, as always, by his sexy masculinity, she paused to acknowledge that she’d reached one of those pivotal moments in her life. A before-and-after moment. There was the Mimi who had existed before becoming this man’s lover, and the one she would be after tonight. No matter whatever else happened in the future, she had no doubt—none, zero—that this decision would live on in her memories forever.

“Come here,” he ordered, reaching up and sinking his hands in her hair.

She let him pull her down, needing to taste him. Their mouths met, softly, more tenderly than they ever had before, as if they were kissing for the first time.

Mimi parted her lips, gently flicking her tongue against his, savoring his taste. Still cupping her head, Xander tilted his to the side, fitting their mouths together more perfectly. They fell into sync, their tongues mating slowly, swirling, thrusting and receding, giving and taking. It was the kind of kiss that could go on for hours and be almost enough in and of itself.

But she knew there would be more. Tonight, they’d have everything.

Slowly ending the kiss, Mimi pushed against his chest and sat up. She lowered both her legs to the sides of the chaise until her toes brushed the cement floor and she was straddling his thighs. Xander didn’t attempt to stop her, letting her take control, set the pace. He seemed perfectly happy to lie below her, looking up at her, waiting to see what, exactly, she wanted to do to him.

“I’ve been thinking about this for days,” she admitted through a tight throat.

“Me, too. I wanted to break the wall down last Friday night when I thought you’d gone through with it and brought Mr. Perfect home with you.”

“I couldn’t…in fact, to be totally honest, I forgot.”

A deep laugh erupted from his mouth. “You forgot you had planned to have sex with him? Wow. Talk about an ego killer. I think I’d have to slit my wrists if I ever heard you say that about me.”

She shook her head. “That could never happen.” Looking down at him and seeing the rock-hard erection bursting against the front seam of his shorts, she struggled to breathe, to stay coherent and said, “Never.”

She reaffirmed that to herself when he shifted restlessly beneath her, and she realized he was so huge the thick head of his cock had pushed up and out of the top of his shorts. She’d known he was big, broad and hard everywhere else. But this…well, the sight left her gasping.

“Wow,” she whispered, glad she was sitting down as the image of taking all that male strength inside her invaded her mind. Her legs would never have held her.

“Let me see you,” he ordered.

“You’ve seen most of me,” she reminded him.

“Not nearly enough. I don’t know that I’ll ever get enough.” He lifted a hand, tracing a path up her side, to the bottom curve of her breast. Swirling the tip of one finger over her nipple, he added, “I really want to see this. I’ve been fantasizing about your breasts—how they look, how they taste.”

Filled with self-confidence fueled by his obvious desire for her, Mimi let the loose robe fall completely off her shoulders. It puddled around her hips on his legs.

Xander watched her in silence, his dark eyes gleaming, narrowing with appreciation. Her breasts were heavy, aching. Against the lace, her nipples were twin pebbles of sensation. She could tell by the way he looked there and drew in an audible, ragged breath, that he was dying to explore all the curves of her body that had been denied to him thus far.

She liked the need he couldn’t disguise. Liked how desperately he wanted her. It seemed only fair considering how incredibly hungry she was for him.

“Oh, yes,” he groaned when she reached up and slid the strap of her gown off her shoulder.

Mimi held her arm against her body, preventing the fabric from falling away. His brow furrowed, but she intentionally tormented him, knowing how good anticipation could be.

She reached for the other strap, pushing it off, as well. Then she lifted her hand to her breast, pulling at the nightie, peeling it away to reveal herself. An inch of skin, a plump curve…finally, a puckered, upturned nipple, pink and pouty, a bundle of nerve endings just waiting for his intimate attention.

“Beautiful,” he said, sounding reverent. He reached up to cup her, and the sensation of his cool, strong hand against her heated skin made her quiver and arch toward his touch.

He didn’t wait for her to reveal her other breast, merely reaching up and tearing the silky fabric away himself. She sensed patience wasn’t his strongest suit, and she liked that, too.

“Stumbling in on you bottomless was amazing,” he said. “If you’d been topless, too, I would have thought I’d landed in heaven.”

He caught her other breast in his hand, tweaking the nipple, rolling it between his fingers. Mimi cried out, feeling the touch on her breasts, but also feeling it everywhere else.

When he moved to replace one hand with his mouth, she grabbed his shoulders, digging her nails into the thick, rippling muscle, holding on tight. He breathed over her sensitive skin for a moment, preparing her, then flicked out his tongue.

“Xander,” she cried, instinctively arching toward his waiting mouth.

He gave her what she needed, covering her nipple, kissing it, then sucking. Deep. Fast. Hard.

She jerked against him, clutching tight, loving the intensity of it. He was claiming her, every pull of his mouth a demand that she give herself over to him completely.

She hadn’t even considered doing anything else.

He played with her breasts for several long moments, teasing one nipple, then moving to the other, always tweaking and stroking whichever one he wasn’t suckling. Her hips were rocking now, rubbing against him, edging up his body so she could gain some relief from that strong ridge of masculine flesh that threatened to burst through his gym shorts. The pressure was incredible—a mixture of bliss and torment as the tension rose and she drew closer to the climax that remained tantalizingly out of reach.

He seemed to understand, to know exactly what she needed. Because without a word, he put his big, powerful hands around her waist, and began sliding her up his body. At the same time, he shifted down. And down.

“No way, twice in one day is just selfish,” she muttered when she realized what he intended to do.

“Shut up.”

She shut up. Xander seemed intent on going right back to where they’d left off earlier today. He moved down far enough on the chaise so that she was sitting on his chest.

And then he moved a little farther.

She came immediately. He hadn’t even needed to push her dripping wet thong out of the way, he’d merely covered her mound with his mouth, flicked his tongue against the satin material, and the top of her head had blown off.

Tears rose to her eyes, the relief was so great, the bliss so immense. Before she’d even had time to fully process it, Xander was ripping her panties off, tearing them down the side, throwing them to the ground.

“Uh-uh, my turn,” she said when he moved his mouth toward her sex again.

“But I want it.”

She chuckled, hearing the boyish, pleading tone in his voice.

“Have I told you yet that I love oral sex?” he asked.

“I kinda got that,” she murmured as she scooted back, so very thankful for the chaise, which was the perfect height and width. Straddling him, letting her moist, soft opening scrape across him as she worked her way down his body, was a delightful torment for them both.

When she reached his hips, she brushed herself against the tip of his erection, then climbed off him. “Most times when men say that, they mean they like getting it.”

“I like getting it
and
giving it,” he admitted, watching her closely as she bent to her knees beside the chaise.

She didn’t taste him immediately, wanting to see him first, to gauge whether he could possibly be as big as she suspected he was. Her hands shook when she lifted them to the waistband of his gym shorts. She traced the tip of her finger across the bulbous head of his cock, hearing him hiss in reaction.

“Mimi…”

“Shh. My turn.”

Her finger was wet with his body’s essence, and she lifted it to her mouth, sampling the salty flavor of him. He reached down and tangled his hand in her hair, never taking his eyes off her.

Hungry for more, she began to work his shorts down, carefully, lifting them over that throbbing ridge of flesh. She let her hand brush against him, watching his rippling stomach muscles flex in reaction. Holding her breath, she drew the shorts all the way down, revealing inch after glorious inch of him.

“Oh. My. God,” she whispered, needing to take a moment to stare at the male beauty before her. She inhaled, but her breath didn’t seem to reach her lungs; she felt dizzy, light-headed. So weak with desire she had the urge to climb up and impale herself on him now, right now, without any further delays.

But she also wanted to taste him. To pleasure him the way he’d pleasured her. So she leaned closer, close enough to brush her lips across the head.

“Hey, Mimi,” he said with a deep, guttural groan, “remember how I said I like to give it and to get it?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“I really like them both at the same time.”

He moved quickly, not warning her what he was about to do. Before she knew it, he’d reached down, put his hands around her waist and pulled her up onto him, her mouth still near his massive erection, his on her… “Oh, yes!”

He dove into her, but this time, she didn’t have to just helplessly take it. She was able to act, as well. She licked another drop of moisture off the tip of his cock, then widened her mouth and took him in it, sucking hard.

The pleasure was exquisite. He was playing her body like an instrument, even as she took pure joy in tasting and sucking him into near incoherence. Mimi had never done this before, never had a lover who wanted to do things out of order on the checklist. She could only think whoever had written that checklist needed a mental checkup of his own, because this…was…heaven.

They gave themselves over to the eroticism of it for a few wonderful minutes, during which she came again so hard she sobbed. Then Xander gently moved out from under her, dropping to his knees on the patio.

“Gotta be in you now, Mimi,” he told her between pants, sounding desperate, on the edge.

She nodded, rolling onto her back. Xander reached for his discarded shorts and grabbed a condom out of the pocket. She didn’t even consider teasing him about being so sure he’d need it sooner rather than later, just thankful he had it.

He sheathed himself, then bent to kiss her again. His tongue thrust deep, and she tasted herself on him, but didn’t care. That was right, and good and perfect, and things like shyness or modesty had absolutely no place between them. Not anymore.

“Please,” she whispered, “I need you.”