Hot to the Touch (4 page)

“Can you tell me
your
name?”

“No.” The word came out as a simple statement of fact.

Troy regarded her with amusement. “So I guess asking what you do is out of the question, too?”

“Do we really need the details?”

“What’s wrong with them?”

“Sometimes they get in the way.”

“Of?”

“Of what we’re both after.” She was still speaking matter-of-factly, but he could sense high energy, see her fingers clenching and opening on her thighs.

“And what is that?”

“A night together. No strings.”

He waited for his body to react, but the adrenaline rush was muted. Mystery Woman was acting as if this was a business transaction, though now that he was close, he could see that something vulnerable lurked under her facade of confidence. Her movements seemed less smooth than when she’d swept into the restaurant, her lips were held tighter. Did she really want to do this? “What makes you think a night together is what I want?”

“Your eyes told me.”

She’d read that much right, though he hadn’t been thinking one-night-no-strings as much as until-we-are-sick-of-each-other-or-die. “Are you married?”

“No.” She spoke emphatically and he believed her. “Nor seeing anyone. I’m just too busy to start a relationship, and prefer to keep entanglements to a minimum.”

Apparently.

Troy didn’t want limits, he wanted to dive in and explore her life and her mind, as well as her body. He still couldn’t believe how powerfully he was drawn to her, how much this felt like something that had always been supposed to happen to him. As if he was welcoming it at last, like a much-anticipated reunion with a long-expected and familiar friend.

She tossed her hair back, exposing the flawless line of her long neck. He caught a light floral scent past the kitchen aromas, and his lips buzzed with the desire to touch and taste that skin. “Are
you
married?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“No. Nor involved with anyone right now.”

“Would you like to be involved with someone?” She leaned closer, inches away, eyes half-closed, lips curling up at the sides, begging to be kissed. The power of her nearness nearly blew him off his stool. “I mean right now. Right here?”

He hesitated before he accepted her invitation and met her lips. Something about this still felt surreal. Maybe that the attraction—and acting on it—was crazy, irresponsible, confusing, unlikely and very, very strong.

She pulled back nearly immediately from his kiss, as if it had startled her, then leaned in again, used her tongue to paint his lips, her teeth to nip, her mouth to smooth the bites.

Troy’s cock responded, but his brain was asking for more than technique and teasing. It wanted a real kiss, one that joined them and took them over the way the mere meeting of their eyes had earlier.

He cupped the back of her head and kissed her the way he wanted, meeting her lips, moving lightly, then harder, not letting her back away from their erupting passion.

Her tongue tempted; he responded, and their touch heated to the danger point. Too hot. He had to break free, hand still tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck, breath coming hard and fast.

This woman was serious trouble.

“Do you want to get out of here?” She was whispering, head bent, speaking to his chest.

His heart swelled with pleasure over what she was offering and caution over how easily the offer came. “You do this often?”

“No.” She shook her head. “No.”

“Why now?”

“Why not?”

That was no answer. There was more. He wanted at it. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“Where do you think we’re going?”

“My place?”

“No.” She looked up sharply. “Not mine, either. Hotel room.”

He winced. He hadn’t been in a hotel room with a woman since…ever. The one time he was, the girl hadn’t been old enough to be classified as a woman. Prom night with a group of seniors. Couples took private turns in the room their parents thoughtfully paid for—though not for that purpose—while the rest hung out in the pool and game room areas.

“I just met you.” She sat straight, pushing back hair that had tumbled forward. “I’m not letting you know where I live and I’m not going to your place. Hotel or nothing.”

Troy narrowed his eyes. “Are you always this wide-open to negotiation?”

She shrugged. “In a hotel someone will hear me if I have to scream.”

Her words chilled him, as did her casual attitude. Had she learned that lesson the hard way? He couldn’t stand thinking about it. “You think I’m capable of hurting you?”

“No.” She dropped her eyes. “But it’s a mistake to rely entirely on instinct.”

“I take it you’ve made that mistake.”

“I did. Let’s leave it at that.”

Barriers again. He wanted to know everything about her, and she was apparently going to fight him every step of the way.

He threw down bills for the bartender and stood. Her eyes traveled quickly over him, top to bottom, and she must have liked what she saw, because her beautiful mouth curved into a smile. He escorted her outside into the still-chilly May air and over to her car. “I get to pick the hotel.”

“Says who?”

“Me.” Troy spoke firmly, saw her into the driver’s seat. “The Pfister downtown. Meet me in the lobby.”

He shut her door on her surprised face and walked to his car before she could collect herself enough to respond. If they had to make love in a hotel room, okay, but for his depraved trysts, Troy wasn’t putting up with anything less than the best.

Roughly half an hour later, after a quick condom run, Troy met her in the Pfister’s elegant lobby and traveled with her up to room 321.

“Home sweet home.” He inserted the plastic card key and pushed open the door to the spacious, luxurious room done in rich shades of burgundy and gold: a bedroom with a four-poster king, a small sitting room and huge curtained windows that would have a view of Lake Michigan during the day.

“Nice. Beautiful, in fact.” She walked in, tossed her purse on the bed, drew back the curtain to peer out the window, then let it fall and casually pulled her shirt over her head, exposing a black lace push-up bra supporting firm breasts, and a toned abdomen over the black pants sitting low on her hips. “Long day. I’m going to shower.”

He stood watching her, taken aback, feeling almost superfluous, erection pushing uncomfortably against the fly of his jeans while she lowered her pants and stepped out of them to reveal not more black lace, but thin pink cotton bikini underwear with faded red and purple hearts. The mismatch was oddly endearing.

“Want company in the shower?”

She shrugged as if she couldn’t care either way. “Sure, if you’d like to.” If he’d
like
to? What was going on here? She was acting as if they were professional acquaintances, not two passionate people about to become lovers. Was she nervous or really this blasé about inviting strange men into bed? He didn’t like either option. He wanted her hungry for him, excited, as anxious to touch and to discover him as he was to discover her.

Her hands disappeared behind her back; black lace came loose, uncovering round, high breasts with rose nipples that made Troy’s mouth purse in anticipation of sucking. She wasn’t looking at him, undressing as if he were a girlfriend she’d spent the day with and barely noticed in the room. The panties came down next in a matter-of-fact gesture, exposing closely trimmed dark hair through which peeked soft pink perfection.

Troy made a helpless sound between a groan and a moan. She either didn’t hear or pretended not to know what she was doing to him, threw her panties on the bed and started to stride toward the shower.

He stepped deliberately in her way, pulling his shirt over his head. She was not turning their night together into an impersonal body-on-body encounter, and she was definitely not making it as far as the shower before he was inside her.

“Excuse me.” Her eyes were wide searching his face, which must be reflecting his single-minded determination. “Could I please get to the shower?”

He pulled her against him, savoring the smoothness of her skin on his, and the lush pressure of her breasts. The lingering food odors had gone with her clothes; she smelled like woman and the subtle floral scent he’d caught earlier. “Shower later. You and me now.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I do.” He moved side to side, letting his chest brush her nipples, holding her eyes with his.

She shifted her gaze away, then back, put a hand to his sternum, but not forcefully. “I’m not clean. I’d rather—”

“You smell delicious. You smell like you.” His voice came out a whisper; he kissed her bare shoulder, the base of her neck, her throat. “I want you now. Then shower if you have to, then I want you again. And again. And again.”

He kissed her beautiful skin, longer between each word, undoing his jeans, pushing until they fell to his ankles and he could step out of them. Then he found her mouth, wrapped her tightly in his arms and lifted her, making her clutch at his shoulders and moan against his lips.

Yes.
She wanted him, this stunning, incredibly hot, older and undoubtedly more experienced woman. She wasn’t as indifferent as her methodical striptease suggested. His ego swelled along with his dick. He was going to make this good for her, good enough to break through that iron control. Maybe she’d tell him nothing about herself using words, but she’d tell him plenty with her body by the time this night was over. And in the days and nights ahead, he’d get to know the rest.

He toppled her back onto the mattress, which bounced them comfortably.

“Are you always this dictatorial?” Her breath was coming fast. She opened her legs to let him settle between them. He rubbed his erection against her beautiful sex through the thin cotton of his boxers.

“No, but I suspect you are.”

“Always.” She smiled up at him, dark eyes shining, hair splayed on the hotel pillow around her lovely face. Something shifted in his heart. What was it about this woman? He hadn’t known her for more than a few hours.

“I bet you run something for your career.” He touched his nose to hers, nuzzled her soft cheek. “Manage people. Boss crowds of them around.”

“I told you, no personal details.”

“No?” He rolled to the side, bringing her over with him, wondering what she was hiding from or scared of, and when or if she’d let him in. He trailed his fingers down her flat belly, forcing himself to go slower than he wanted, circled them in the short, soft hair between her legs, brushed her clitoris gently back and forth, loving the push of her hips in response. “How about
this
personal detail?”

“Oh.” The syllable was soft, breathless. “You seem to know that one already.”

“Mmm, yes.” He teased her more, running his fingers slowly around her sex, exploring, reading her reactions—the thrust and grind of her hips, the catch in her breathing, the flutter of lashes against her cheek.

“And this?” Thumb rubbing a light circle on her clitoris, he slid a finger inside her, nearly going out of his mind with lust when her eyes shot open and a gasp escaped her. “That
is
personal.”

“Yes. It is.” He pushed a second finger inside her, wanting to watch her come apart, to send her as far from the tightly controlled woman dispassionately pulling off her clothes as he could get her.

“Wait.” She tried to squirm away from his fingers. “I’m…wait.”

“No waiting.” He bent and took her breast in his mouth, sucked the nipple, worshipped it with his tongue and teeth, kissed his way up to her throat, bit gently.

Her face flushed pink; she closed her eyes, panting helplessly. “Wait.”

“No,” he said quietly. “Let it go, sweetheart, you’re safe.”

Her body went rigid; her eyes opened wide into his. Troy felt her muscles contract powerfully around his fingers, and practically lost it. He was dimly aware he had to remember the condom, but not much else registered except his need to be inside this woman as soon as possible.