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Authors: Cari Quinn

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BOOK: No Romance Required
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You’re mine
. He might as well have taken out the key to unlock her vagina. She could hear the
cylinders click.
Open, sesame.

The movement of his finger held her captive, both from the jolts of pleasure radiating
up her arm and from his skillful touch. “You know about pulse points.”

“You’d be surprised what I know.”

“You said that before.” She swallowed, hard. “And not so much.”

He stepped closer. His features appeared carved in granite, but for the warmth of
his eyes. No longer a flat, cool gray, they blazed with the intensity she’d only ever
seen him apply to work. Now it was riveted on her.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he murmured. “If you don’t want that, tell me now.”

His words alone caused goose bumps to rise along her arms, despite the heat. She could
leave. He was giving her ample opportunity to flee, just as she had last time. But
this was, for all intents and purposes, their third chance up at bat. The first he’d
fumbled, the second she had. If they struck out now, she’d never know what it was
like to lose herself in her arms. She’d never get to watch his control shatter.

Because of
her
.

She moved in and slid her hand up to the back of his neck. Without her heels to narrow
the gap in their heights, she felt at a definite disadvantage. He loomed over her,
the breadth of his shoulders reminding her exactly how big he was. All over.

He waited until she leaned up before closing the distance. Their mouths came together
in a hard clash that knocked the few preconceptions she had left of him right out
of her head. He slanted his lips over hers and drove his tongue deep, groaning as
she seized hold and tugged.

No hesitation. No doubts. Nothing but pure, sweet relief that it was so damn good
between them, better than in her wildest dreams.

She licked the length of his tongue, sliding her own back and forth in a languid tease.
He yanked off her headband and sent it flying, then buried his hands in her hair,
shifting her head so he could explore her thoroughly. Her mouth was his playground,
and he claimed it with a carnal patience that set off a desperate pulse in her core.

Panting, he gripped her arms to pull her up on her toes. When that wasn’t close enough,
he hoisted her onto his hips and cupped her ass, somehow managing to hold her in place
when her renewed kisses sent them flying back into the mirrored wall. His skull bounced
off the glass and she gasped, reaching up to feel for blood or lumps. “Are you okay?”

“That’s one way to solve this.” He opened one eye. “Kill me.”

She deliberately rose up in his arms, putting his face near her straining breasts.
They were both breathing raggedly, and it was hard for her to string words together.
“You’re not dying until I get my fill, Santangelo.”

“Take it off.” He looked down where her shirt had ridden up, exposing her navel. “Take
it all off. Now.”

The thrill in his demand incited a shiver. Her body didn’t seem to know the temperature
was set on broil. “There is another class later.”

“The operative word is later. Trust me, we won’t be bothered.”

She frowned. “How do you know?”

“I paid off the woman at the desk to reserve this room for our…discussion. Our privacy
is assured.”

Cocky much? But she couldn’t drum up any irritation, not when he’d turned her brain
into an omelet with his kisses. Under other circumstances, she might’ve even found
it amusing that he assumed no one would dare to challenge his will. Or his checkbook.

“FYI, Santangelo, this a gym, not a motel.”

“For Christ’s sake, will you just shut up and get naked?”

Ignoring him, she shimmied down his body and gripped the waistband of her shorts.
His eyes fired as he zeroed in on her fingers. Torturing him had always been one of
her favorite things, and apparently that even applied when they were about to have
sex.

“Want me?” She cocked her head and played up her vamp role. “Then come and get me,
big boy.”


Cory stalked toward her and yanked off his jacket and tie. She was right about one
thing. Coming was definitely on the agenda.

Normally he wasn’t one for sex other than in the place intended for it—with the occasional
side trip into a shower or hot tub—but she made him absolutely crazy. This studio
with its soft mats and walls of mirrors added its own sexy ambience, part of why he’d
changed his plans from talking to touching. As soon as he’d walked in and seen her
barely-there outfit and glowing, dewy skin, he’d walked right back out and reserved
the room.

Exactly
how
flexible was she from all that stretching and bending? Oh, the ideas he could conjure.
Combining their knowledge of all the ways the human body could move—and be restrained—would
be truly mind-blowing.

She rolled down her shorts and kicked them off her toes with a leg extension than
nearly made his eyes roll back. That yoga thing? Total win.

He followed the long, silky line of her legs up to her triangle of golden curls. Not
honey-blond like the hair on her head but as light as corn silk. Just enough to tease.

Something he’d pretty much reached his limit on.

He pounced, hitching an arm around her waist and lifting her off her feet. Then she
was on her back on one of the cushy mats and he was on top of her, pushing her shirt
higher. He already felt like he was coming out of his skin, on the verge of roasting
alive, but the sight of her naked and exposed nearly popped off his damn head.

She watched as he rolled her top up her toned torso to the bottom of her breasts.
She was small enough that she’d gone without a bra yet he had no complaints. To his
mind, she was made perfectly. Lithe and compact and incredible.

Their gazes fused while he coaxed the clingy material over the taut tips, his trapped
breath escaping in a hiss at each patch of skin revealed. He trailed kisses up the
center of her abdomen, tasting the salt of her skin and inhaling the tang of her arousal.
Her tan lines were still visible, her breasts paler than the rest of her and capped
with pale-brown nipples. He traced the definition between darker skin and light with
his tongue, deliberately avoiding her breasts. Reveling in her shudders and how she
scraped her hands over the mat, digging in with her mermaid-green nails.

He licked the swell of her breast. “You shouldn’t tan.” He grinned at her hazy expression,
then made her eyes cloud all over again when he drew her nipple into his mouth and
sucked her deep.

Her hips bucked, and he rested his hand low on her belly right above that tantalizing
strip of hair. He held her down and kindled her desire until sweat pearled at the
top of her cleavage and her breath came in little gasps. They only increased when
he switched to the other nipple and skimmed his palm over her mound. Her wetness glazed
his skin, ripping a groan from his throat.

If he tasted her as he wanted to, this would be over too soon. His pants clung to
his painful erection from the temperature in the room, and his balls felt as tight
as knots. He jerked open his remaining few buttons and managed to get off his shirt,
which was sticking to him in the heat, without releasing her nipple.

Up on her elbows she went, studying his body while she breathed through puckered lips.
“Pants off.” She moaned at his increased suction. “Please. Want you…naked.”

She wasn’t the only one. He’d probably have to content himself with permanent nudity
if he succeeded in peeling his pants off his body, because he damn well wouldn’t be
getting them back on.

He didn’t reply so as not to use his remaining air. It was already in short supply.
He tugged off his belt, then winced as he forced off his trousers and boxer briefs.
Goddamn, he was hard enough to hammer wood. And not
dead
wood either. All because of her delectable body reclined in front of him like an
offering to the gods.

To
him
.

Finally he returned to kneel between her outstretched thighs. She wore that awed expression
again, the one that made him smile. “You’re so b—” She stopped but it was too late.
He was grinning. “C’mere,” she said, making a come-hither gesture he couldn’t comply
with fast enough.

His cock practically jumped into her grasp, and they both groaned at the feel of her
hand closing around him. Christ, she had some grip on her.

Her eyes never left his face. Gauging his every reaction. She worked him with skill,
responding to him so acutely that he almost believed his pleasure was as addictive
to her as seeking her own.

“Ladies first. Didn’t anyone teach you that?” Edging back, he pressed his length hard
and heavy against her belly while he arrowed his tongue along her nipple again, adding
his teeth when she squirmed and moaned. “You’ve probably concluded I like to be in
control.”

Her irises had warmed to molasses, the color receding from her dilated pupils. She
tossed her head, loosening her ponytail from its band and sending a few damp blond
curls flying. Sunshine to chase away the twilight he’d left outside to find paradise
in here with her. “So do I.”

“You’re going to come on my fingers.” He gripped hers, nipping them. She cried out
even before he touched her intimately, from the mere suggestion that he would.

God, she was blowing his mind.

He skated his hand down her damp torso and hooked a finger in her folds, growling
at the surfeit of moisture. She gyrated, silently begging him to move. He dipped lower,
building more heat with his caresses.

Lightly, so lightly he touched her, using his other hand to turn her chin toward the
mirror. Surprise flared in her expression as he spoke against the side of her mouth.
“We’re both going to watch you shatter for me.”

She shut her eyes, as if it were too much for her to bear. He stroked her harder and
she whimpered, shaking her head in denial of what he would force her to feel. And
force her he would.

“Open,” he demanded, sure she knew he meant her eyes as well as her slick sex holding
his fingers in a snug, unyielding grasp. She’d tried to close her thighs around him
just like she’d closed her eyes.

She granted his request, tilting her hips into his strokes and staring at their reflection.
Staring at
him
while he gazed right back at her. Perspiration collected at her temples and he licked
it, eager to taste her. She wiggled her stomach against the heft of his cock, its
damp head trailing wetness over the flushed undersides of her breasts. Moans burst
from her lips and he gentled his pace, wanting to string out her excitement.

“Want to come?” His lips moved against her throat. “Claim your pleasure.”

Chapter Six

Uncertain, Victoria jerked back. “What do you mean?”

He shifted against her, pinning her hips with his, enjoying her gasp. “Tell me what
to do. Fingers only. Not tasting you now.” He nuzzled her neck. “That’s for later,
when I have hours to devour you.”

“Slow doesn’t do it for me. I need fast.” She licked her lips, flashing a hint of
her tongue. “Rough.”

“Eyes on the glass.” He moved back down her body and pried her legs open, inhaling
deeply at the swollen pink flesh that awaited him. He couldn’t wait to savor every
bit of her.

“Don’t look at me,” he commanded when she sneaked another glance. “Look at the mirror.
If I go off track, use those pretty little lips and tell me. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

He hiked up her thigh and drove his fingers in deep, two this time. She moaned as
he pushed them in and out, releasing her leg so that he could use his other hand to
hold her open. Laid bare like this, her tan lines framed her mound, highlighting the
swollen pearl of nerves and how she flushed from his attention.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he gritted out.

Her nails scratched the yoga mat as he thumbed her clit, coordinating his movements
with the withdrawal of his drenched fingers. This time her moans were so loud he considered
stuffing her top in her mouth, just in case.

She was everything and more he’d hoped for in bed—and on the floor—and in a minute,
she was going to drench his hand. Or better yet, his cock.

When she started to spasm, he drew free of her though he continued to circle her clit.
She throbbed against the pad of his finger, all heat and unapologetic need.

“Are you on the Pill?”

She nodded so swiftly he would’ve grinned had he dared. Any unexpected movements and
he feared he’d lose his tenuous grip on his control. “Yes. God, please,” she begged.

“I don’t have a condom.” Irrefutable proof he hadn’t showed up for sex, though he
damn well didn’t mind the turn of events.

“It’s okay. Isn’t it?”

Considering his track record of late, he did some rapid nodding of his own. “Yes.”
He set the head of his cock against her entrance and closed his eyes. Then he whispered
the word, like a prayer. “
Yes
.”

So goddamn wet. So fucking hot. The inferno in the room seemed to be inside him now.
Inside her as he sank deep. Tight and soft, she gripped him in a fiery fist, holding
him there while he clamped his hands on her thighs and spread her wide.

Slowly he drove deeper, noting with satisfaction that she still watched her face in
the mirror. He did, too, riveted by the sight of her mouth widening every time he
inched in farther. Her lashes fluttered and her taut nipples jutted when she bowed
back, still maintaining that link between them in the glass.

He anchored his hands on her waist and tightened at the feel of her coiling her legs
around his hips. She clasped him deep, rippling around him in silent supplication.
He traveled as far as he could go, then changed the slant of his thrusts when her
desperate moans demanded more. He was already steeped in her, her relentless need
twining urgent ropes of desire around his throat. His cock.

His heart.

She pressed her heels against his ass and drew her lean, impossibly toned body up,
arching in an erotic bridge he thanked the yoga gods for. Then he was plunging into
her, mindless to everything but the feel of her squeezing him from root to tip. Wrenching
more pleasure from him than he’d believed he was capable of feeling. Blowing through
his limits until they were shattered roadblocks on the way to the bliss he’d found
in her sweet, selfless body.

He’d lost all control. She’d pushed him to the point where there was nothing but her
and him, and the magic they made together.

When the orgasm finally overtook her, the most lovely smile he’d ever seen in his
life crossed her face. As she succumbed, he did, too, in long, endless pulses that
shuddered through him and flowed into her, extending her climax. She twitched around
him, prodding another groan from his throat.

She’d completely wrecked him.

Eventually he shifted them onto their sides on the mat. Playfully, she walked her
fingers up his stomach, but he couldn’t even dredge up a smile. His chest felt too
tight, as if his overheated skin had shrunk. His heart was still racing. Maybe he
needed to up his cardio.

“Tired?” she teased.

“It’s been a while.” He grimaced at the pile of his discarded clothes, wishing he
didn’t have to go back to work for the first time in forever.

With the new stores opening soon, he had a million things to handle. He didn’t do
days off, nor did he take extra-long dinner breaks. Along with the usual tasks, there
was the upcoming magazine launch and his parents’ looming retirement. He’d think of
more, once his synapses figured out how to fire again.

Other parts of him he’d given up—temporarily—as casualties of war.

She sifted her fingers through his chest hair. “What’re you thinking?”

He glanced at her enthusiastic smile and his aching chest locked up. In another minute
she’d rest her head on his shoulder, and he’d be confronted with all he wasn’t. Maybe
he’d fooled her for the moment, but the truth always came out.

She wasn’t going to find his workaholic ways satisfying for long. Soon she’d be bopping
on to new adventures and he’d be left just…left.

He opened his mouth to speak just as his phone went off in his jacket. He stood and
walked over to where he’d dropped it, then snatched his cell from his pocket, never
more grateful to hear his secretary’s voice. There was an issue at one of the rental
properties and she couldn’t reach Dillon. Could he come in right away?

Oh yes, he could.

“I’m on my way,” he said, hanging up.

His eyes met Victoria’s. “I have to go. Dill’s unavailable and there’s an issue at
the Rison. Nancy needs me to come in.”

She frowned and he swiped off the perspiration on his forehead. If only he could shed
the guilt as easily. “Right now? Can’t you stay for a few?”

“Sorry, Nancy’s waiting. But I’ll see you Friday as usual. Okay?” He rose and dressed
in his wrinkled suit, then left before he could make things any worse.

Like by having sex with her again.


The normal thing for a woman to do after having sex with a guy she’d sort of crushed
on for years was probably to replay it over and over again, not try to block it out.

Vicky had never been normal.

In this case, she had good reasons for going into mental denial mode. It wasn’t because
it had been bad. Oh no siree. Much as she hated to admit it, she’d never experienced
anything even half as mind-blowing.

Which was most of the problem. She had a tendency to want to repeat amazing things.
Or in the case of sex with Cory, repeat it until she couldn’t walk straight.

So she’d tried not to think about it. Much. Okay, not more than sixty-two times per
hour. That had worked until this evening. How could it be Sunday already? Cory hadn’t
even picked her up for dinner at his parents’ yet and she was damn near ready to jump
him on sight.

See? She wasn’t at all freaked out about sleeping with him. Especially since right
then she was too busy being freaked out by talking to Bryan.

Vicky shoved her cell into her bag and tried to shake off the conversation. Just what
she didn’t need tonight—an interrogation by her older brother.

He’d heard about the photos from their sister and was afraid that she was doing something
dangerous to her mental health by dating Cory. Which, of course, had reminded her
of the secret she was keeping from him and Melly.

One day soon, she was going to have to tell him about their mom’s reentry into her
life.
Their
lives, if he’d let their mom back in. And this time, she wasn’t going to take no
for an answer if either of her siblings didn’t want to hear her out. She’d sit down
with him and Melly after he had a firm diagnosis for his knee situation.

By then, the first issue of the magazine would be put to bed and her fake relationship
with Cory would be as dead as her withered heart, if she didn’t get a handle on her
mushrooming feelings for the jerk. Having fantastic sex with him hadn’t exactly been
a cure for them, either.

Sap.

Why were men such stubborn pains in the ass? Was it in their DNA or their penises?
Or just her bad luck?

One man at a time. First she had to deal with Cory. She’d vowed to save him from his
workaholic tendencies by forcibly injecting some cheer into his world, and she would.

By ensuring that he kept his job and got his parents off his back by pretending to
be his fake girlfriend.

Hmm, maybe he’d be better off if she left him in the lurch and he ended up jobless.
Maybe then he’d relax once in a while. Though lots of sex had its therapeutic qualities
as well. She grinned. She’d be happy to “heal” him however she could.

When his Lexus pulled up, she was ready. So ready, in fact, that she didn’t bother
waiting for him to come up to the stoop.

“Are you okay?” he asked when she pulled open her door and slipped inside.

“Don’t I look okay?” Shamelessly fishing for compliments, she held open her thin coat
and enjoyed his slack-jawed expression at her dress. The sweaterdress made the most
of her curves, even enhancing ones that were barely there. She’d accessorized with
subtle makeup, modest jewelry, and leather ankle boots. Very demure all the way around.
“Do I look appropriate to be a hardware mogul’s girlfriend?”

“You look beautiful.”

“You sounded more authentic when you said that at the gym, and I was all sweaty,”
she teased.

“I was referring to Friday when I asked if you were okay. You missed our magazine
meeting.”

“Oh, that. Sorry. I had a headache.” A small fib. She still hadn’t recovered from
his disappearing act so soon after they’d had sex in the yoga studio and hadn’t been
ready to see him yet. It wasn’t like her to blow off a meeting, but she hadn’t had
her shields in place. That old fear of being left behind had come raging back, and
it had taken her until today to sort herself out. “We can reschedule whenever you
would like.” She knew he’d fit her in. Besides, he was the one who’d totally thrown
her off-balance by showing up unannounced after her class.

She wasn’t the only one thrown off, she could tell. The darkness didn’t allow her
to see his face, but she could tell he was stressed. He sat ramrod straight beside
her and he gripped the steering wheel in a tight hold.

If that wasn’t enough, she could just make out the dark scruff along his jaw. Cory
only neglected to shave when he was worn out. Lately that was happening more and more
often.

“I hope you’re feeling better now.”

A sly smile crossed her face. Eureka. Maybe she could sex him into forgetting about
her missing the meeting and his overloaded plate of work.

And that they were about to pretend to be in love, which was ludicrous.

She leaned up to suck on his earlobe. His audible grunt made her grin. “I’m hoping
you’ll make me sweaty again soon,” she purred.

“About that.” He eased away and gave her an almost accusing glance. Funny how she
had no trouble seeing that in the dark. “Though I don’t regret that it happened, I
think we can both agree once was adequate. I’m hoping we can move on.”

Adequate
? She’d come so hard she’d worried her eyes would stay permanently crossed, and that’s
what he had to say for himself?

After many years of experiencing irritation at what left Cory’s mouth, the hot spurt
of aggravation was far from surprising. What did surprise her, however, was how quickly
it passed.

“I’m sorry to disagree,” she said pleasantly. “Once was not adequate for me, and I
think the chances of moving on while I’m pretending to be your girlfriend are slim
to none.”

“If you’re not comfortable in that role—”

“No,
you’re
the one not comfortable.” She reached down to cup his cock through his trousers and
delighted in his frustrated growl. “Let me know if I can be of some assistance with
that,” she added, pulling away when he scowled.

Her mask of confidence slipped as he reversed, wordlessly heading to his family’s
farm outside of town. What if Tuesday had been the biggest mistake she’d ever made?

“Put your belt on.”

She sighed and did as he’d asked. “Yes, Grandpa.”

He grunted and lapsed into silence.

Fabu. Traveling to his parents’ place outside Haven took half an hour under the best
of circumstances. With the thin, wispy fog now obliterating the road ahead of the
headlights, it would add on another ten minutes at least to traverse the hilly country
roads. And the fall air inside the car was even chillier than it was outside.

Not that she was one to give up easily.

“So…how has your weekend been?”

He arched a brow. “Fine. Busy.”

“I imagine it usually is for you. Isn’t that why you’re an insomniac? Never have much
time to sleep, so your body doesn’t know what to make of it when you do make time.”

“Who said I was an insomniac?”

“You,” she said simply, fluffing her hair to avoid staring too hard at his sulky face.
Though she knew he’d balk at that description, in this case it would be true. His
concentration level for driving in the fog had added that little forehead wrinkle
she could just barely see in the light from passing cars. “So what do you do when
you’re up all night? You can’t work constantly.”

“No,” he admitted finally. “Sometimes I make lists.”

“Like of stuff you need at the store?”

“Hardly.” She didn’t need to look at him to hear the quirk of his lips in his voice.
“It’s a simplified explanation, but for you, I’ll call them to-do lists. More like
time projections.”

“For me. Ah, yes. Me who got a perfect score on my math SATs, almost a perfect score
on English and skipped two grades. Right. Please do talk down to me.” But she wasn’t
irritated. This conversation was just her and Cory returning to their natural conversational
balance.

BOOK: No Romance Required
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