Can't Get Enough (28 page)

Writhing internally over
her patent lack of skills in the pickup department, she turned her head
to stare out the window and saw they were passing the car dealership
near her apartment. As the red Mustang slid by her window, she
stiffened—they were almost home. Even as she was thinking the thought
the car slowed down, then stopped altogether.

She tried to swallow the enormous lump of nervousness lodged in her
throat as he exited the car and walked around to open her door. She
attempted to smile up at him, but suspected she just looked
constipated.

She managed to climb out of the car without revealing more than she
already had, and they stood for a moment, poised on the edge of a
decision.

Is he coming up? Or is he trying to find a way to break it to me gently?

She flickered a look at him, but it was difficult to see his expression
properly in the dark. Maybe she should be glad he wasn't making any
moves, maybe she should just write this off as a bad experience and
slink to her bed alone.

But he was standing there, tall and strong and sexy, and she wanted
him. She didn't really know how to make it more obvious that she wanted
him. The problem was, if he hadn't understood what she said back at the
restaurant, she didn't think she had it in her to throw herself at his
feet again. Perhaps if she just…kind of headed upstairs? Then, if he
followed her, she'd know he was coming up. Good plan, very good plan.
She turned slowly toward the entrance to her building, every sense
attuned to him, and felt him following her.

Okay. Right. So he was coming up. He was coming upstairs, to her place.
To make love. Or, more accurately, to have sex. A thrill of relief that
she wasn't as hopeless at this blatant-sexual-invitation-thing as she'd
thought, closely followed by a wave of anticipation, made her knees go
weak. The automatic doors to the lobby opened as they approached, and
she headed toward the stairwell, then stopped.

"Um, I usually take the stairs rather than the elevator. It's only on the second floor, but if you prefer…?" She hesitated.

Jack shrugged, gestured toward the stairs.

"Stairs are fine."

She nodded, let out some of the breath she'd been holding and moved
across to the first flight of stairs. She was acutely aware of him
behind her, and of Sally's stupid flirty dress brushing against the
back of her thighs with each step she took.

She was also acutely aware of the fact that he'd yet to make a move on
her. It all felt very…businesslike. Was that the way these things were
done? Maybe he was just very private?

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He waited until they were almost at the top of the first flight of stairs before he spoke.

"Claire?"

She froze with one foot on the stair tread ahead, one below, and glanced over her shoulder at him.

"You know your problem? Sometimes you think too much." Jack's voice was
gentle, low. She managed a real smile, somewhat reassured by the sexy
look in his eyes.

Maybe this was going to be all right.

When his hand brushed against her hip as she continued up the stairs,
she realized "all right" might be a gross underestimation. Instantly it
felt as though every inch of her skin was hyper-sensitized. When his
hand smoothed over her hip all the way to where the dress skimmed her
bare thighs, she felt her heart kick up a gear.

And when his hand began stroking her thigh ever so lightly as she
continued up the next flight of stairs, she thought she was going to
turn into a boneless, quivering mess and slither down to the lobby
between his legs.

His touch was light, delicate, searching, and she slowed down, barely
moving now, biting her bottom lip to stop herself from groaning out
loud as his hand smoothed farther up her thigh, sliding under the dress
now and swooping up to just touch the lowest curve of her butt before
sweeping down again. A small animal sound escaped her despite her
precautionary measures, and Jack's hand slid up again, venturing closer
to her butt this time, then smoothing forward to reach around and just
brush against her lower belly. She shivered, aware of the dull ache of
desire that was beginning to throb between her legs.

"You like that?" he said huskily, and she noticed that she'd stopped
climbing the stairs altogether now, and that he was standing right
behind her, his breath tickling her ear. He was so tall that the fact
he was standing a step down put them on an even footing.

She opened her mouth to respond, but any thoughts she had were swept
away when Jack's hand slid up for another pass, this time reaching
around across her hip and smoothing down over her stomach until he was
dipping between her legs with firm, knowing fingers.

She gasped, wanting everything, all of it. A collage of ideas and
shapes and sensations danced across her closed eyelids, and she wanted
them all. Suddenly, she needed to feel Jack inside her, and she turned
abruptly to face him, pushing his unresisting body against the wall.

"I want you right now," she whispered, a little surprised by her own
audacity. Jack smiled, a wicked wolf's smile, and she stood on tiptoes
and kissed him, wanting to taste his wickedness, wanting to borrow some
of his confidence and sexiness. He pulled her close, deepening the
kiss, his tongue dancing with hers as one hand swept up under her dress
to smooth over her butt again, while the other slid up her torso to
take possession of her breast. It felt heavy with need, and when he
ducked his head to tongue her nipples through the halter top, she had
to lean against the wall to stay upright.

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The sound of her gasps of desire echoed around them in the stairwell,
and then they heard the scrape of a shoe on cement. Someone else was
coming.

It was enough to bring them marginally to their senses, and Jack lifted
his head slowly and nibbled at her ear for a moment before reluctantly
relinquishing her breasts.

"I want you on a bed. Or at least something that's not concrete," he
said, and she nodded dumbly. She thrilled to the fact that he kept his
hand possessively on her hip all the way up to the hallway outside her
apartment. Then he took the key from her shaking hand and opened the
door, pushing her ahead of him into her living room.

A moment of stillness passed as they stood there facing each other,
alone at last, only the sound of their heavy breathing breaking the
silence. After all this time of sniping at each other, it came down to
this.

"Take it off," he said finally, indicating her dress.

She hesitated a moment, but there was no denying the demand in his
eyes. She loosened the tie around her neck and released the halter top.
His eyes seemed to flare as her breasts were revealed, and that feeling
of power came back to her. Slowly, she reached for the zipper at the
base of her spine to undo the skirt of the dress, aware that Jack's
eyes followed every swaying movement of her breasts. The dress slid
down her thighs and he crossed the distance between them in a flash.

"Where's the bedroom?" he asked breathlessly, but she could only pant.
He just shook his head then, and the next thing she knew she was on the
carpet and he was on top of her, his mouth ducking to lick and suck at
her breasts, his hands smoothing over her hips and thighs. She wanted
him to touch her
there
so much, but he seemed intent on teasing her, his fingers sweeping
tantalizingly close to where all her heat awaited him, and then moving
away again. She whimpered with the need for his touch, arching up under
him.

"Now!" she demanded, and she felt him
smiling against her breast. He nipped her breast playfully, and she
arched her back again.

"Jack!" she asked again, but he continued to tease her with his almost-caresses, and finally she'd had enough.

With a surge of strength, she pushed him away and began tearing at the
buttons on his shirt. He kept trying to distract her, his hands
plucking at her nipples, but she gritted her teeth and ignored his
laughing to tear his shirt apart. Then she reached for his waistband.

"Help me get these off!" she ordered him breathlessly, and he obliged
her by lifting his hips so she could pull his jeans over his butt and
down his legs. He kicked them away as she ate him up hungrily with her
eyes.

He was so beautiful. She splayed her fingers through the hair on his
chest, but it was impossible to ignore the part of him that was
demanding the most attention. Greatly daring, she slid her body against
his, reveling in the spread of her breasts against his hairy chest,
capturing his mouth for a brief but intense kiss
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before sliding back down his body. He tried to distract her as she
moved lower and lower, her tongue chasing a hot trail down his chest
and belly. His knee came up between her thighs, and she pressed herself
against him, wanting so much more, but getting great pleasure from the
pressure. Then she slid off his knee and continued down farther still,
reaching for his erection and shooting him a challenging look before
taking him in her mouth.

"Claire!" he cried out, and she loved the lack of control in his voice.
He tasted good, sweet and hard and she could feel his body tensing
beneath her hands as she raced her tongue across the velvety head of
his penis, her hand firmly stroking his shaft. A strong hand came down
to still her movements.

"Quit while you're ahead, lady," he warned her. He broke away to grab a
condom from his wallet, put it on, and then he was on her like a wild
thing, his mouth almost too demanding on her breasts, his hands at last
finding the centre of her, one finger plunging inside her where she was
so, so ready for him. He made an approving noise as he found her
clitoris and she bucked under his hand, and while she was still gasping
her approval, she felt his hardness nudging at her thighs and she
spread her legs wide, rising up to meet him.

It was like coming home. She forgot everything—her name, the rasp of
the carpet against her back, the fact that her neighbors could probably
hear her ecstatic groans and pleadings. Jack's face was intense and
hard above hers, his eyes boring into hers as he thrust time and time
again inside her. So deep. So hard and sure and perfect. She felt a
pressure growing inside her, at first faint but then increasingly
strong and she felt her face contort with the wanting. She closed her
eyes, but Jack's voice whispered in her ear.

"Look at me. I want to see you," he said, and she opened her eyes just
as she lost her grip on the world and became nothing but pulsating
feeling and release.

He seemed to feed off her, and she felt his body tense and shudder as
he surged into her one last time. And then they were once again two
bodies instead of one, their chests heaving against each other, eyes
rueful as they regretted how quickly it had all gone. Jack kissed her
face, slid a tongue along her neck, nibbled her earlobe. She sighed,
smoothed her hands down his back, grasped his rounded, muscular butt.

"Give me a few moments, and we'll see if we can break another record,"
Jack whispered in her ear. She laughed, then made a little regretful
sound as he withdrew from her.

"Shower?" he suggested, one hand trailing down her body, stopping to explore dips and peaks along the way.

" Mmm," she agreed, allowing him to pull her to her feet. She led the
way into her bathroom, loving it when he slapped her behind gently,
then cupped it with his big hands as he followed her into the shower.

"I worship this butt," he said, nuzzling her neck from behind.

"Really?" she blurted, surprised.

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Jack turned her round, kissed her.

"You have the sexiest, most desirable little body. Don't tell me you
don't know that?" he asked. She shrugged, concentrating on turning on
the water and getting the temperature right.

"Claire." He sounded so serious she stopped what she was doing and turned to him.

"Believe this now. I have wanted you since the moment I realized what those boxy suits of yours have been hiding. Okay?"

He was absolutely convincing, and she allowed herself to believe him, even if it was just for tonight.

"Okay."

He didn't look convinced.

"Repeat after me. 'I am very sexy,'" he instructed lightly, reaching for the soap.

"Jack!" she protested, but he had worked up a lather in his hands now and he reached for her breasts.

"Come on. 'I am very sexy.'"

She squirmed beneath his expert touch. "All right, all right. You're
very sexy," she laughed. Jack seemed inclined to force the issue, but
other parts of him had recovered quite nicely and she took the matter
firmly in hand, so to speak.

"Don't mess with me when I'm holding the remote control," she
mock-warned him. The rest of the shower passed in a haze of murmurs and
groans and impatient noises. At last Jack shut off the water, his face
hard with desire, and hauled her out of the shower and threw her, still
wet, onto the bed.

He climbed on beside her, stalking toward her like a very large, very hungry jungle cat.

"This time, we go slow," he promised her.

He was true to his word. Sliding his body along hers, he pulled her
close and kissed and caressed her until she was breathless. It was all
so good—his hands, his mouth, the way he fit against her. She felt
overwhelmed by desire. It was all too much, she felt out of control and
Jack seemed to sense it. Soothing, he toyed almost absently with her
breasts, circling her nipples gently with teasing fingers, pressing the
occasional kiss into her cleavage. Just as she was beginning to relax
into his touch, he picked things up, dancing his fingers across her
nipples, then plucking at them more firmly, and finally drawing each
straining tip into his mouth one at a time.

Liquid heat throbbed powerfully between her thighs. Once again she
ached with need for him, and she reached for his erection with greedy
hands. Jack tensed as she slicked her hand up and down his hard shaft
and lifted her hips toward him, straining.