One Night with Prince Charming (10 page)

BOOK: One Night with Prince Charming
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Pia pulled her top over her head and tossed it on a dresser.

Catching Hawk's hot gaze, she teased him by tracing the edges of her lacy pink bra with her fingertips.

Hawk continued avidly watching her with hooded eyes.

Pia wet her lips, running the tip of her tongue over the plump and swollen formation of her mouth.

She still felt the imprint of Hawk's kisses there. And judging from the look of him, Hawk was on a tight leash, stopping himself from giving her more and then some.

“This is going to be the shortest strip on record,” he murmured thickly. “Need some help there?”

She knew her nipples were outlined against the nylon fabric of her bra, the coolness of the room adding to her arousal. Her breasts were a bit oversized for her frame, giving her the appearance of a busty fairy. However, since high school, she hadn't caught a guy eyeing them as lustily as Hawk was.

She shivered, and Hawk crooked his finger at her.

Her stomach did a somersault.

She came to him, and he caught her, leaning back to lie down on the bed as she straddled him.

Mouth met mouth in a voracious kiss. Then he was feasting
on her breasts, and she threw back her head and luxuriated in the sensation.

“Hawk.”

He unclasped her bra and peeled away the offending barrier, his mouth barely leaving her in the process. He suckled her, his hands bunching her breasts together for his greedy lips.

Pia felt sweet and piercing-hot sensations shoot through her. In response, she rubbed against him.

Hawk lifted his mouth from her breast and sat up so they were face-to-face. “If we don't slow down,” he muttered thickly, his mouth close to hers, “this is going to be over in two minutes.”

“Th-three y-years is a long time to wait.”

“Too long.”

With one hand, she opened the first button of his shirt, and then the next and the next. All the while, she was aware of the rasp of his breath as her gaze focused on the strong column of his throat.

She finally undid his cuffs and tugged at his shirt.

He obliged her by sitting up and shrugging out of his white shirt and the undershirt below.

He quirked his lips. “Now what?”

“D-do you have a blindfold for yourself?”

He laughed helplessly.

“You're only half-naked,” she protested.

“It's a situation I'm more than happy to rectify.”

She moved aside, and he got off the bed.

But before he could make a further move, she stopped him, laying a hand on his arm.

“Let me.”

Getting up herself, she worked slowly but surely, her hands brushing his arousal and causing his breathing to deepen.

She slid his belt free of its loops and then lowered his zipper.

He helped her then, and the room sounded with the thud of his shoes and the slither of his pants and boxers.

Pia caressed his arousal freely before bending and kneeling before him.

Hawk groaned. “Pia, Pia…ah, sweet.”

Pia was lost in the experience of making love in a way she never had before. She felt the tension in Hawk's muscles and the throbbing heat of his flesh. And when she gave him the most intimate kiss she could imagine, he stiffened and groaned again, gripping the bedside table.

“Pia,” Hawk said, his voice heavy and thick with arousal. “You've definitely…changed.”

She'd had time over the past three years to replay the night she'd lost her innocence to Hawk. She'd had time to imagine different scenarios. She'd had time to see herself as the seductress instead of the one being seduced.

And now, unexpectedly, she had a chance to realize some of those fantasies.
With him.
Because he'd always been the lover whom she'd imagined.

She focused on giving pleasure and soaking in the sounds of how much Hawk was enjoying her ministrations.

She wanted to make him lose control.

Moments ticked by, and then, on an oath, Hawk disengaged her, pulling her up for a rough kiss.

“I'm not going to ask where you learned that,” he said darkly.

If only he knew, Pia thought.

She thrilled at the tacit admission that she'd given him unexpected pleasure. She warmed to the tinge of jealousy in his voice.

“T-take me,” she said, her request a plea and a demand. “H-Hawk, p-please.”

He swept her up into his arms and laid her on the bed again. He rid her of her belted skirt, her last piece of clothing and of protection from his avid gaze.

He leaned over her and caressed her body. “You're so beautiful, you make me ache.”

Pia felt her heart squeeze.

“Are you using any protection?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No.”

He opened a nearby nightstand drawer and removed a packet.

“I don't think I can be near you without being prepared,” he said with self-deprecation.

She gave a small smile. “S-sort of like leaving the house without your BlackBerry?”

He chuckled. “Sort of. But you make me lose my mind, whether I like it or not.”

He sheathed himself, and Pia reached her arms up to him.

She wanted him to lose control right now. The need to be joined to him was overwhelming. She wanted to experience falling over the edge again with him into paradise. It had been so long…

Hawk settled his weight on her. “Ah, Pia, let me in…”

He entered her, and they both closed their eyes, savoring the sweet sensation of their joining.

Hawk started to move, and a delicious friction began to build in Pia.

They kissed and moaned, and he bit down gently on the tender skin at the side of her throat, while she let her hands roam over his hard muscles, urging him onward.

Pia convulsed gently, once and then twice.

“That's right,” Hawk muttered. “Come for me, Pia. Come again.”

He whispered sweet encouragement.

Pia felt herself tremble, her body on the cusp of deliverance. She tightened around Hawk, and her hands fell from his back to grasp the coverlet.

He was relentless in pursuit of her pleasure. “Pia,” he breathed in her ear. “Sweetheart, tell me.”

“H-Hawk, p-please, y-yes.”

The sound of how much he affected her was his undoing.

Hawk groaned and stilled just as her body began to shake. He spilled himself inside her, wondrously joining her powerful climax with one of his own.

Pia cried out with her release, and Hawk clasped her to him, his skin hot and damp.

Their hearts racing, they came back down to earth—or some version of it.

This,
she thought, was what dreams were made of.

Nine

I
n the normal course of things, lunch with Colin, Marquess of Easterbridge, and Sawyer Langsford, Earl of Melton, in the dining room of the historic Sherry-Netherland Hotel should have been a tame and relaxing affair.

Hawk knew better.

Lately, notoriety had come nipping at the heels of his trio of friends.

Colin looked up quizzically from his BlackBerry. “Well, Melton, it seems Mrs. Hollings has done it again.”

Sawyer nodded at a waiter who then proceeded to fill his wineglass, and took his time addressing Colin. “What, pray tell, has she deemed worthy of acid ink this time?”

“The topic is us…again,” Colin said, his tone bland. “Or, more exactly, the subject is Hawkshire.”

“How very fair of you, Melton,” Hawk commented dryly, “to include us in the
Intelligencer's
gossip column.”

Sawyer's lips quirked. “So what does our Mrs. Hollings have to say today?”

“Apparently Hawkshire has a second career as a wedding planner's apprentice.”

Sawyer raised his eyebrows and swiveled his head to look at Hawk, his expression droll. “And you kept this tidbit from us? How could you?”

Damnation.
Hawk knew he was in for a ribbing from his two friends. Still, it was worth mounting a defense, however feeble. “My sister is getting married.”

“‘We've heard,'” Colin said, quoting the text from his BlackBerry, “‘that a certain very wealthy duke has been keeping company with a lovely wedding planner. Could it be that wedding bells are in the air?'”

“Charming, our Mrs. Hollings,” Sawyer said.

“A veritable fount of useful information.”

Hawk remained steadfastly mum, refusing to add his two cents to his friends' comments.

Sawyer frowned. “How is your mother these days, Hawk? The last time I had the opportunity to be in her charming company, she talked of finding you a bride. In fact, I believe one name in particular crossed her lips.”

“Michelene Ward-Fombley,” Hawk said succinctly.

Sawyer nodded. “Ah, yes, that sounds—” he paused to give Hawk a shrewd look “—exactly right… A suitable choice.”

Of course, Sawyer and Colin would have a passing acquaintance with Michelene, Hawk thought. She was from their aristocratic social circle. Her grandfather was a viscount, not someone from a small town in Pennsylvania…

He and Michelene had dated a few times, back when he was still trying to sort out what his role as the new duke should be. He'd gingerly tested the waters by stepping into William's shoes with one of the leading candidates to be a future duchess. But then his work with Sunhill Investments had consumed him, and still grieving, he'd allowed himself to stop calling Michelene. It had been easy to do, since she
hadn't awakened any strong emotion in him. But then, in the past year, the idea of Michelene as the Duchess of Hawkshire had gained renewed life, thanks to his mother's prodding.

“What game are you playing, Hawk?” Sawyer asked, going straight to the point.

Hawk kept his expression steady. Ever since Sawyer's marriage of convenience to Tamara had turned into a real one, he'd been protective of her and her girlfriends, Pia and Belinda.

Pia.

Damn it, he was not going to discuss Pia with Melton or Easterbridge.

Yesterday had been the most passionate experience of his life—for the second time. Inexplicably, he felt a visceral connection to Pia. Maybe that explained why he'd never forgotten her…

She'd been a virgin, but if last night was anything to judge by, she'd learned a lot in the past three years.

He acknowledged as much with a punch to the gut. He'd been unprepared for the Pia of yesterday afternoon. She'd caught him by surprise—again. He'd intended to be the seducer, and instead had been seduced.

Yet…had he really intended to seduce her again? Despite all his noble intentions?

Certainly, by the time she'd entered his bedroom, his mind had turned toward kissing her and more. But the idea had been gaining steam well before then. Without a doubt, while she'd been giving him a tantalizing view of her luscious posterior all morning. And maybe even before then…when she'd been running across the grass toward him at the New York Botanical Garden, or when…

He wanted her. All he'd been able to think about for the past twenty-four hours was getting Pia in bed again. And now that they'd crossed the threshold to being lovers again,
he admitted he also didn't want to turn back. He wanted to remain lovers—unlike the first time three years ago—even if his relatively newfound principles were in jeopardy as a result!

They'd been forced to end their afternoon tryst yesterday when Lucy had arrived home. Otherwise, Hawk was sure that he and Pia would have spent all day in bed.

Instead, Pia had descended the stairs as if nothing untoward had happened—such as Lucy's wedding planner having completely undone her brother—and had met with Lucy as if she'd arrived at the house only a little early and had been awaiting her.

Why was it so upsetting that their lovemaking left her so unaffected? He couldn't fall into a too serious entanglement with her—not with all his responsibilities to his title.

Hawk noted belatedly that Sawyer was waiting for an answer, and even Colin looked intent.

“There's no game,” he said, choosing his words with care.

Blast it, even
he
didn't know what to make of his relationship with Pia. Not anymore. He had no compass.

Sawyer looked dubious. “Then you're not practically eng—”

“There is no game,” he repeated.

Sawyer eyed him, his expression thoughtful. “You might want to make sure Pia doesn't get hurt, either.”

Right. If anything, Hawk thought,
he
was the one in danger here.

 

Pia felt a quiver of anticipation when her doorman rang and announced that Hawk was downstairs.

“Tell him to come up,” she said before replacing her receiver and turning away from the phone.

She hugged herself and glanced at Mr. Darcy, who was eyeing her like a friend resigned to watching her make the same mistake twice.

She could sense the feline's disapproval—almost read his thoughts, if that were possible.

Wickham. Him again. Have we learned nothing?

“Oh, don't look at me that way,” Pia said. “His name is not Wickham, as you well know. And I'm sure he has a very good reason for being here.”

Right. And a cat has nine lives. I wish.

“You're way too cynical for a feline. Why did I adopt you from the shelter?”

You know why. I'm the antidote to your trusting romantic nature.

I'm not as naive as I once was, Pia responded in her head.

Mr. Darcy turned and padded toward his basket, set against one wall of her living room space. He stepped in, made himself comfortable and closed his eyes.

Pia stood there and then blushed as she remembered her afternoon idyll with Hawk on Sunday.

It was shocking how easily she lost her inhibitions with him. She'd forgotten herself in the moment. But he'd seemed equally affected.

At least she hoped so.

She still couldn't quite believe her daring—or fool-hardiness—in trying to play in Hawk's league of seduction. She'd met him and upped the ante. And though she hadn't been able to admit it to herself, perhaps she'd set out to prove that she could bind him, unlike their first time.

Careful, careful.
She couldn't and wouldn't risk her heart again. She was beyond being the naive virgin who believed in fairy tales. Instead, she'd take what she wanted from Hawk for her pleasure and be prepared to say goodbye with no regrets when the time came.

She looked at the clock. It was just after five. He must have come directly uptown to see her after the close of the New York financial markets.

She hadn't seen him since they'd wound up in bed together, but that was about to change.

 

Hawk stepped out of the elevator and immediately spotted Pia at her door—waiting for him.

“H-Hawk,” Pia said, her voice a touch breathless.

She was dressed in a casual, cinched blue dress, her hair loose and with just a touch of shine to her lips.

She looked good enough to eat.

Without hesitation, he strode to her, wrapped his arms around her and gave her a bone-melting kiss.

When he finally lifted his head, he searched her gaze. “Blast it, I get so aroused when I hear you stutter.”

She blushed. “I don't know why. Th-that has to be one of the most unusual compliments a woman has ever received.”

He kissed her nose. “Do you know it's the most erotic thing in bed when your adorable speech tick is on full display?”

“How embarrassing.”

“How perfect.”

“Oh.”

Over Pia's shoulder, Hawk noticed Mr. Darcy lift his head from his cushioned basket and eye him.

Hawk got the sense that the pet's opinion of him had soured since the first time he'd been in Pia's apartment. Perhaps the cat had figured out who he was: The Duke Formerly Known as Mr. Wickham. Or rather, Mr. Fielding—wicked and wrong—as the case might be.

He held the feline's stare, giving the cat a stern but reassuring look, until Mr. Darcy lowered his head, closed his eyes and went back to his nap.

“Is something wrong?” Pia asked, stepping back and letting him into the apartment.

He followed her in and waited while she shut the door behind him.

Then he slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Nothing is wrong except that since Sunday I've been desperate to see you.”

He'd left work early to come here, hoping his appearance would be a welcome surprise. And judging from Pia's reaction, he'd bet right.

Pia slid her arms around his neck. “Oh?”

“I had a storm of work this week, and by the time I flew back from Chicago last night, I knew phone calls were no longer enough to sustain me.”

“Mmm—really?”

He nuzzled her ear. “Nothing but your presence would do.”

“You know, Your Grace,” she responded playfully, “this is rather irregular. A client could arrive at any moment, or the phone could ring. We're on work hours.”

He lifted his head to look into her eyes. “Are you expecting anyone this late in the day?”

“No,” she admitted.

“Then there's no problem, as far as I see.”

“There
is
a problem,” she teased. “This has all the trappings of the lord of the manor cornering the backstairs maid.”

“Because you're on my payroll?” he murmured, grazing her temple with his lips.

She nodded. “Exactly right. W-we had sexual relations in your bedroom right before I was to meet with your sister about wedding plans.”

He almost laughed at her mock prudish tone even as
every
part of him was coming to stimulating arousal. He was finding this interchange with Pia more erotic than any of the more blatant attempts at seduction he'd been the recipient of in the past. It appeared that, after all, Pia might be skilled at role-play…

“Perhaps I should ask directly,” he said, playing along. “Will you nevertheless oblige me?”

Pia tilted her head, pretending to consider. “Mmm…”

Not waiting for a response, he stroked her leg, and then let his hand wander under the hem of her dress until it connected with her hip. Sliding her panties to one side, he caressed her intimately.

He watched as her eyes clouded with desire.

“I want to know every inch of you,” he murmured. “I want to taste your flavor and learn your scent.”

Pia's eyelids drooped, and she gripped his arm hard.

“Pia?” he murmured when she still hadn't said anything.

He scanned her face and watched her eyelashes flutter against her pale skin.

She wet her lips. “Oh, y-yes. I-I'll oblige you.”

They were both so turned on, they could hardly speak.

“This is the most erotic exchange I've ever had,” she said as if she'd read his mind.

He had to have her.
He kissed her, and then, removing his hand from under her dress, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet.

He headed with her toward the bedroom.

“Are we destined to make love in the afternoon?” she asked.

He glanced down at her, a smile hovering at his lips. “Anytime becomes you, princess.”

He stepped into her bedroom and deposited her on the bed, on top of her feminine white coverlet.

Straightening, he took a moment to let his eyes travel over her.

She looked up at him with desire. Her golden hair was spread out over the cover, and her lips were pink and wet from his kisses.

She was beautiful.

Pia parted her lips. “Oh, H-Hawk.”

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.

When he opened them again, he said with helpless amusement, “Don't say another word. I may go up in flames.”

He pulled off her shoes, raised the skirt of her dress and pulled down her panties.

Bending toward her again, he slid his hands up under her thighs to cup her buttocks and pull her toward him.

She was open for him as he leaned in and kissed first one inner thigh and then the other.

Pia quivered and then tensed as he finally laid his mouth against her. Moving at a leisurely pace, he darted and licked with his tongue, and in no time, the room was filled with the sounds of Pia's gasps and moans.

“H-H-Hawk…o-oh!”

Pia tensed and let out a long moan, coming for him.

Only then did Hawk raise his head. She was so unbelievably responsive, he was fighting for control.

Holding her gaze, he undid his shirt and opened his pants, bothering to take off only his shoes. He removed protection from his pocket, sheathed himself and then leaned over her.

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