Lucky 7 Bad Boys Contemporary Romance Boxed Set (15 page)

"So, Rey, are you going to show me how not to rush?" she wondered aloud and dragged her hands through his thick hair. She dropped a kiss on his forehead, then a little further down on a spot just next to his ear.

Rey chuckled again, appreciating her bravado. Appreciating the lingering feel of her lips on his skin and the way her body accepted his so naturally.

"You are just too demanding," he said, even as he shifted the hands at her waist to slip under the hem of her shirt and contact warm soft skin.

"I've been spoiled, remember? A princess, I believe you said," she answered, but there was no sting in her words. She kissed the side of his face, moving ever closer to his mouth in a series of enticing kisses.

"A princess, huh?" He shifted his head that final inch and took possession of her mouth once more, alternately biting and sucking at her lips as he softly said, "Used to giving orders, aren’t you?"

"For sure," was all she could reply as he deepened his kiss, sweeping his tongue inside to relish the taste of her and the warmth of her mouth. When he broke away to kiss the side of her face, she murmured a protest.

Rey encircled her back with his hands, holding her as she arched to give him access to the fine line of her neck, where he nibbled at the pulse point beating erratically against his lips.

"Order me, Princess. Tell me your most unreasonable demands."

Bianca somehow managed to drag a breath into her lungs as he continued nibbling on her neck. The gentle suck of his mouth, the stinging little bite, pulled at her insides, making her ache. She grabbed his shoulders and encountered the fine crisp cotton of his shirt and remembered her dream. Remembered her first touch of his chest that morning. She knew what she would order him to do.

"I had a dream the other night, Rey," she admitted.

He stilled at her words and looked up at her, waiting for what else she would say.

"Take your shirt off," Bianca commanded and hoped her voice didn't sound as expectant and uncertain to him as it did to her.

There was no hesitation in his movements as he quickly undid the buttons and shrugged off the shirt, tossing it to the side of the sofa.

There was no indecision on Bianca's part as she laid her hands on his shoulders again and explored the strength in them, the control as he held her back, drawing her near.

Rey's heart was beating so hard in his chest he was certain she could feel it pounding against her hands. But if she did, she gave no sign of it as she moved her hands down, cupping the muscles of his pectorals, and rubbing her thumbs back and forth lazily against his nipples until they beaded into tight points.

She worried her lower lip with her teeth as she continued to touch him, then moved her hands across the ridged muscles of his abdomen, avoiding the scar at the edge of his ribs. As he briefly met her gaze, it was clear she remembered his reaction this morning and was guarding against a similar response. He hated that he had created that uncertainty in her and wanted to release her of that fear.

"It feels good, Bianca. When you touch me like that. Really good."

He brought his hands to rest over hers lightly, urging her to bring her hands back to his pectorals, where she again caressed him and lingered.

"It feels even better than I had imagined, Rey," she admitted.

"A confession, Princess?" he murmured in low tones, moving his hands to her waist and slipping under the hem of her shirt once more so he could create that connection of skin to skin. Savor the play of her muscles under his hands as she shifted her upper body close and rested her cheek against his.

"Totally a confession," she answered shakily, her breath warm and uneven as he trailed his hands along her body, inching higher, until he stopped short of where he really wanted to be.

She protested that with a little whimper and a hushed command, "Tell me your dreams, Rey. Am I in them?"

He nuzzled the satiny skin of her cheek. "In a cameo sort of way," he replied teasingly and she huffed in indignation.

"Only in a
cameo
sort of way?"

"How about in a romantic kind of way?" he admitted. He turned his attentions to her ear lobe, where he gently tugged at her lobe with his teeth before dancing his mouth across to her lips, which despite her protest, she opened for him.

"How ro . . . man . . . tic?" she murmured between kisses.

"Let me. . ." He groaned as she bit his lip and then licked away the slight sting. Dragging in a deep breath, he finished. "Show you."

Bianca moaned against his mouth as he brought his hands up beneath her shirt to cup the undersides of her breasts and strummed his thumbs across her nipples. They grew tighter with each pass, until he finally took each nipple between his thumb and forefinger, gently pulled and kneaded until she ached for more.

She took her hands off his chest, where she had been busy exploring his hard muscles, reached for the hem of her shirt, and quickly whipped it off.

His groan then was deep and visceral, transferring itself to her as she gazed down at his hands on the satiny, leopard skin print of her bra.

"God," he uttered harshly. "If you're Jane, I pray to God I'm Tarzan," he managed to quip and drew a chuckle from her. It turned into a strangled moan as he bent his head and opened his mouth on the upper swell of her breasts.

She cradled the back of his head, held him close and when he bent to take one nipple into his mouth through the fabric, she rose on her thighs to give him easier access, bringing the entire length of their upper bodies close together, skin against trembling skin.

He bit and suckled her, alternating from one breast to the other, until she was whimpering her need, her hips bumping his body in an invitation to do more.

Rey was certain he'd die if he couldn't taste her, but he was also sure he'd be a dead man if Alex found out what he had done to his little sister on their first date.

In a moment of quickly fading sanity, the reality of what they were about to do if he didn't stop, hit him. Although he thought he might be permanently damaged if he didn't have her right then and there, one stubborn little brain cell took control and brought reason.

He slowed his caresses and tempered them with gentleness instead of the passion that had too quickly escalated out of control.

Slowly he stroked her back and said, "I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone before."

"But you want to stop," she finished, sat back onto his thighs and met his gaze, her face flushed. Her lips swollen and slightly red from their passion.

"I want to wait until what we feel with our bodies catches up to what we're feeling with our hearts," he said, hating that he was sounding way too sensitive guy, but knowing it was the right thing to do.

Bianca smiled and cradled his cheek. “And I thought women were supposed to be the thoughtful ones."

She bent and kissed him. A kiss filled with tenderness and acceptance, the fire of her desire banked for the moment as she honored the restraint he was showing. She eased off his lap and quickly pulled on her tank top.

"Ready for that flan?" she asked.

"I think I should go," he said grabbed his shirt and slipped it back on as he pushed to his feet.

Bianca rose, stilled his hands as they fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. He dropped his hands and observed as she slowly slipped each button through its hole and smoothed the shirt over his chest. When she went to tuck in the shirt, he grasped her hands and gave them a teasing shake.

"If you're trying to tempt me into staying, it won't work."

"Nope. Not in the least," she said, but judging from her half-glance, he was certain she was trying to do just that.

"My mom taught me to be a gentleman, Bianca. But even a gentleman has his limits," he warned playfully as he stuffed his shirt into his pants.

Bianca met his gaze. There was no arguing with him, she could tell. In a way, she was glad he had been able to keep his head. She was worried that if she gave in too quickly to what she was feeling, she would regret it in the morning.

"My mom taught me to never let a guest leave empty-handed. So if you'll just give me a second, I'll put that flan in a dish so you can enjoy it at home."

She walked to the kitchen, cut a piece of flan, and put it into a plastic container for him. When she turned, he was standing by the door, his hands stuck in his pants pocket, as if he didn't trust himself not to touch her again.

"Here," she said, holding out the container to him.

Rey relented, pulled his hands out of his pockets and grabbed the dish, keeping it between them like some kind of shield. "Thank you for a very enjoyable and interesting evening."

Bianca smiled and ran her hand lightly over his as he gripped the container with the flan. "I had a nice time, too."

He shuffled his feet, turned to go, and then surprised her by whirling around and taking her into his arms. She looked up at him.

He grinned and softly said, "Dream of me, Bianca."

And then with a kiss so quick she might have imagined it, he rushed out her door.

Chapter Twelve

Bianca closed the door and leaned against it, groaning. She passed a hand over her lips which were still tender from his kisses.

"Dream of me," she repeated and cursed beneath her breath. As if she was going to be able to think of anything but him with the way her body still hummed from the caresses they had shared.

She walked back to the sofa, tossed herself on it, and reached for one of the untouched plates of flan on the table.

What had she done? she asked herself, but didn't regret for a moment what had happened. From the first day she had seen him, something almost visceral had called to her. She knew, with a certainty she had never felt about anything before in her life, that what they could share would be something that would satisfy her on every level.

Physically and emotionally. Every which way.

Cutting into the piece of flan, she spooned up a chunk and examined her experiment for the first time. Eyeing the flan, she decided it was a sinfully rich milk chocolate color, several shades darker than the color of Rey's skin. Bringing the spoon to her lips, she took her first bite. The texture was satiny and smooth against her lips, but couldn't compete with the way Rey’s lips had felt against hers.

She moaned and forced him from her mind, needing to concentrate on the dessert and just the dessert so she could decide if her recipe had worked. If it had, they would consider offering it on their menu at the new restaurant.

Flan, a rich, caramel egg custard, was a staple in Cuban cuisine as well as other Latino cultures. Eduardo, Diana, and she had all agreed they wanted to include some kind of flan on the menu. In keeping with the idea of the restaurant’s theme, they wanted something non-traditional and which would meld elements from one or more Latino cultures.

She had been chosen to contribute her variation on the flan. Since chocolate and Kahlua were of Mexican origin, she had decided to try and combine those ingredients into her recipe for a traditional Cuban flan.

Bianca tasted the experimental flan and found it had a nice chocolate taste. Spooning up some of the Kahlua-accented caramel liquid, she sampled it as well. There was only a slight bite from the liqueur and it had a strong coffee taste. That made her reconsider whether to change the flavoring in the egg base to a coffee one instead of chocolate.

A
cafe con leche
flan? she thought.

She shrugged, ate more of the dessert and was pleased with the blend of the flavors, although in the back of her mind, the coffee-flavored concept lingered like the touch and feel of Rey.

Placing the empty plate back on the tray on the coffee table, she rose and picked up the tray, returned to the kitchen, and quickly cleaned all the mess. When she returned to the sofa, she moved the coffee table to the side, turned and yanked off the sofa pillows and cushions. With its usual cacophony of squeaks and groans, the sofa bed protested as she pulled it out.

After straightening the sheets and blankets, she walked to her armoire, slipped off her clothes, and for a moment just stood there in the outrageous leopard print lingerie.

She ran her hand over her breast, imagining how Rey had touched her and beneath her palm, her still-sensitized nipple beaded.

God, how she had wanted him to go farther and feel his mouth on her. The thought of it nearly made her weak in the knees and she fought off the desire. She undressed, grabbed fresh pajamas, and tightened the drawstring on the pants to keep them from riding too low on her hips. She had lost some weight with all the hard work and running around.

Shutting the armoire and slipping into bed, she snapped off the light and lay in the dark, thinking about the day and all that had happened, especially all that had occurred that night.

Rey was an enigma to her. A bright, talented, and successful man with his own business who seemed to have depths that were dark. She had sensed his pain when he talked about his father. She had also sensed on more than one occasion that he felt he was somehow not good enough for some reason.