Hot Commodity (20 page)

His gaze stayed steady on her face as he descended until his mouth was inches over her pubic hair, his breath fanning her stomach.

"You’re in charge here," he reminded. "Whatever you want, Livy. I’ll do it."

She nodded. "Lick me," she said hoarsely.

He smiled with approval and dipped his head, his eyes still on hers as he flicked out his tongue and lightly batted at the lips of her sex. She jerked and cried out.

"Oh, God. Do it again."

He lowered his eyes then to concentrate and licked her again, only he didn’t stop stroking this time. Pressure built inside her. She strained, wanting to buck against him, but she kept her body rigid. It only made her want more. She needed something, anything, inside her.

"Touch me," she said again, and remembered at the last moment she needed to be specific. "My breasts, Cameron. Touch my breasts. Cover them with your hands."

She didn’t know if he could hear her. He seemed so intent on his job. But his hands came up and covered the aching mounds on her chest. Her nipples protruded and burned for the contact, but he merely massaged the outer rim.

"My nipples," she moaned and arched her back.

He laughed against her clit, and the sound vibrated through her so that at the very second his fingers clamped around both of her nipples, she came. She flooded his tongue with her juices and pulled his hair with her fingers. Her body rippled as she bucked and arched trying to escape and seek the overwhelming release at the same time.

By the time she’d settled down and was only jerking occasionally with little aftershocks from the orgasm, he took his mouth from her.

Glancing down, she met his gaze.

"What now?" he asked. He looked eager to continue.

She smiled and reached for him.

"I want you inside me."

He slid up her body to kiss her and answer the unspoken demand in

her eyes.

Then he pulled back and asked, "How?"

How
?
Olivia didn’t know how, didn’t care how, she just wanted him inside her. Now. But getting into the spirit of her control, she instructed, "Roll onto your back."

He grinned and complied immediately, staring up at her expectantly. She crawled over him and straddled his hips. Taking his penis in both hands, she paused a moment to marvel at the swollen shaft. It was soft to the touch but hard underneath. Longer than she remembered, it was so mighty in girth she was amazed she could actually wrap her whole hand around its base, and even more amazed it had ever fit inside her. It reminded her of all the historical romance books she’d used to read, how they were always called swords. Well, this one had her imagining a machete, feral and deadly and slightly curved.

"Livy?" he asked, his voice urgent and begging.

He pushed up into her hand, his stomach muscles quivering at the contact.

"Call me Olivia," she said.

His eyes flared as if he wanted to argue. But when she let go of his shaft and let it flop onto his stomach, he swallowed and nodded. "Okay, okay," he gasped. "I’ll try. Olivia."

When she took him back into her hand, he closed his eyes and sighed. "Olivia."

Olivia lifted her hips and came down on him. He pushed up inside her, making her moan.

"Can I touch you?" he asked.

She said, "No," and his eyes flew open in alarm. "I can only touch you."

Her fingers started at his waist and they moved up over his ribs and to his flat nipples. All the while, she continued to move in a slow, purposeful rhythm. Up, down. Up, down. Nice and easy. When she leaned over to kiss his tiny nipples, he groaned out a strained, frustrated sound.

"Olivia," he begged.

She laughed huskily and lifted her face. "I’ll let you kiss me," she allowed and laid her mouth to his.

He suckled hungrily, eating at her lips with teeth and tongue.

"My neck," she instructed. "I like that thing you do to my neck."

When she tilted up her chin and exposed her throat to him, he immediately leaned forward set to his mouth against her pulse. A single stroke of his tongue and nip of his teeth later, she bowed against him and pounded down faster, ready to explode once more.

"Livy," he panted. "Olivia. I want to touch you. Oh, God. I want...I want…"

"My hips," she said and quickly changed her mind. "No. My butt,

Cameron. Grab my ass like you do."

He did. With pleasure. He clutched her backside, ground her down on him, and groaned, straining. She watched the pleasure on his face and was awed. His eyes slit open, and he met her gaze.

"I can’t...I can’t hold back much longer," he confessed in a hoarse voice.

She nodded, leaned over to kiss him, and came a second time as he clutched her hard and drove up into her.

When he cried out the name Livy, she didn’t even mind. In fact, she decided she rather liked his pet name for her after all.

Eleven

Cameron felt as if a train wreck had just passed through him. Exhausted and sated, yet feeling totally scattered, he ran his hand down his wife’s naked back. His thumb memorized every groove and bump in her spine as he grinned at the ceiling over her shoulder.

He could get used to this, waking up with a wife next to him, a wife he could actually tease and coax into doing it, a wife that didn’t cry and withdraw into herself whenever he managed to make her come. Cameron knew he shouldn’t compare. Olivia was only a temporary spouse. As soon as the annulment papers were final, she’d be gone and he’d never see her again.

But his mind measured her against Sienna anyway. And the most alarming conclusion was that his first wife came up lacking. All the way around. Olivia smiled and laughed, and Cameron could actually
make
her laugh and smile—when he wasn’t pissing her off. But even getting her riled showed him how lively she was.

As much as he’d tried, he’d never been able to bring Sienna to the height of any emotion. He’d only made her miserable and more resentful because he could be so cheerful when she just wanted to die.

Cameron’s arms tightened around Olivia, but he stopped as soon as he realized what he was doing. He’d tried tightening his grip on Sienna too. Yet the harder he tried to hold onto her, the further she had slipped away.

Forcing himself to ease back, Cameron let go of the woman in his arms so she could roll off him. When she didn’t move, he smoothed a hand over her hair.

"Okay," he said. "I have to get ready for work now, Livy."
           
Nothing.

"Olivia?"

He craned his neck to see her face and was surprised to find her dead asleep. Tenderness tugged at him, but he swallowed it down. The poor girl. He’d exhausted her. He should’ve just let her sleep in. But she’d purred and arched when he’d touched her hip. Then she murmured his name in her sleep, and he was a goner.

What else was a guy to do but pounce?

Then again, he hadn’t counted on feeling this tug of emotion when he spanked her awake. He didn’t want to feel anything toward her. He didn’t want to fall. Sienna had taught him not to ever make that mistake again.

But as he gazed at the relaxed and innocent features of Olivia’s face, a chunk of the ice wall around his heart thawed. Since she was out cold, he stole a few minutes to cuddle. He stroked her hair with his cheek, inhaled the heavy scent of woman, and ran his hands over her warm, nude figure.

In her sleep, his wife sighed, content.

~ * ~

Boston Kincaid glanced down at his Rolex and clenched his teeth. What do you know, Cameron was running late again. How typical. The lazy bum was probably still in bed.

 
"Goes away to Chicago for three days, and the slug thinks he can sleep in this morning."

Muttering under his breath, Boston turned on his radio and listened to the alternative music for a second, enjoying it while he could, because he was well aware Cam would change it to one of those loud, thumping hip-hop stations as soon as he slid into the car.

The two of them were polar opposites, even though their mothers were sisters.

When Boston’s parents had gone on business trips, he’d usually found himself staying with Aunt Allison and Uncle Chuck, playing side by side with his cousin Cam. And though the two of them had grown up together, he couldn’t say he’d cared much for the smart-mouthed Cameron in his youth. But these days, they were closer than most brothers. In fact, Boston was more connected to Cameron Banks than he was to his own kid brother, Monty.

He’d gone to work for Cameron the day he’d graduated from law school and passed his final bar exam. And Boston hadn’t regretted the move once. His cousin might’ve made some risky ventures in the past, but they’d all ended in a nice, tidy profit. Boston had sweated sleeplessly through many a night, but he’d stuck by Cam’s side. He’d follow his friend to the grave if that’s what he had to do.

It still irritated him, however, that the man could never be on time. That was one of the reasons Boston had grown into the habit of driving Cameron to work. It was his way of keeping the mastermind behind their operation punctual. So Boston began coming over to drag him out of bed, push him into a shower, shove a cup of coffee into his hand, and lug him to work.

Boston trusted his cousin’s instincts over his own in the decision-making end of their business. Bos was just the legal back-up. If he’d had to make the choices, they’d have gone belly up years ago. He was too safe and straight-laced to make any kind of radical judgment call. Cameron, on the other hand, was almost dangerous when he threw out his opinion.

Sometimes, Boston was convinced his friend was actually trying to go bankrupt. And if he hadn’t been around to rein him in, they might’ve done just that too. That’s why, together, they made an awesome team. Apart, they would’ve fizzled out years ago.

Wondering if Cam was still asleep or just lagging today, Boston slid his new car into park and pushed open the door. He pocketed his push-button ignition key and started for the entrance. Letting himself in, he strolled up the stairs, still frowning, and went directly to Cam’s bedroom. When he spotted the lump under the covers, he sighed.

"Hey," he called, unsympathetically. "Get your lazy ass out of bed. We’ve got work to do today."

When the lump only stirred as if jerking awake at the sound of his voice, Boston grabbed hold of the end of the covers and ripped them all the way off. The sheet was still in his hands when he discovered Cameron wasn’t the body in the bed.

At the sight of the naked female, Boston froze. Okay, so it’d been a few months since he’d seen a nude woman, but for a moment there, all he could do was gawk like he’d never experience the phenomenon before.

She, whoever she was, immediately curled into a ball, chilled by the absence of her warm covers. And finally, reality kicked in.

Boston’s eyes shot open wide. "Holy shit!" he yelped and threw the sheets back on top of her. In his haste, he covered her entire body, head to toe. "Oh, my God, sorry. I am so sorry, ma’am."

An irritated, muffled and very feminine sound came from under the blankets as she fought to uncover her head from the tangled mess on top of her. Boston watched a tanned leg kick out from the side and his eyebrow arched. Nice. Very nice.

Then it struck him: he was staring.

Whirling away, he turned his back to her, only to find Cameron leaning against the opened doorway of the bathroom, brushing his teeth. He was completely dressed, save for his bare feet and the fact he needed to comb his hair and tie his tie. He grinned, a twinkle of mischief sparking his eyes.