Rescue Me (Butler Island) (19 page)

Bad, bad body.

Because she’d been so caught up in Randall Burns, so
unhinged by his close proximity, she’d nearly forgotten they were still on the
crowded dance floor surrounded by women that believed gossiping was a
competitive, full-contact sport.

Randall gave her hand a firm squeeze before loosening his
grip. The moment his fingers slipped from her grasp she already missed them.
“How much longer are you going to be?”

“Long enough to play one more round”, he answered,
shoving his hands in his pockets again.

“
Hurry
.”

The neediness in her voice caused a grin to spread across
his lips. “What’s in it for me?”

“Oh, don’t worry—I’ll make it worth your while.”

And just like that, his smile disappeared. “An
hour—tops.”

Chapter 22

The cadence of Lana’s rapid heartbeat drummed in her ears
as she stared at her reflection. Ten minutes. She only had ten minutes until he
arrived.

And she was freaking out!

She’d spent the last month fantasizing about tonight,
methodically planning how she’d seduce the socks off Randall Burns. And now
that the time had arrived she feared her courage would fizzle.

She was new at this seduction thing. Last time with
Randall had been so spontaneous—
so hot
—there’d been no time to be
nervous, no time to second guess.

This time was different.

Anticipation had been building for a month—one very long
month. What if she didn’t live up to his expectations? What if tonight proved
to Randall she hadn’t been worth the four-week wait?

Lana ran a brush through her long brown locks, pondering
her last thought. It was her own insecurity, she knew. She’d lost her virginity
at seventeen to Jimmy, and although they’d had an active sex-life, that by no
means qualified her as an “expert” on the subject.

Randall’s not looking for an expert
.
He
wants you
.

A shiver worked its way down her spine at that realization.
He wanted her.

Randall Burns wanted
her
…

Lana’s heart thumped against her chest. She wanted to be
bold, wanted Randall to understand how she ached for his touch. Steeling her
spine, she vowed to follow through with her carefully-calculated plan. No
regrets.

The sound of the front door closing drew her from her
contemplative trance. This was it, the moment they’d both been waiting for.

“
Lana
?” She heard him call out from the living
room.

Giving herself a last minute once-over, she drew in a
fortifying breath. Tonight was a new beginning. Because if the last year had
taught her anything, it was that life was precious and utterly unpredictable.

It was past time for her to take a risk.

It was time to start living again.

Using the key she’d given him a few months back, Randall
unlocked the front door and stepped into the dimly lit living room. His eyes
immediately homed in on the lone kitchen chair in the middle of the room, or
more importantly, the handwritten note that read “
SIT HERE
”, propped along the ladder back.

What is she up to
?

Following directions, he lowered his large frame onto the
wooden chair, then called out to her. He’d done everything he could to cover
his tracks tonight, beginning with the deliberate loss he’d incurred back at
The Saloon. Everyone knew he hated losing—at pool, at anything, really—which
gave him an excuse to pay his tab and cut out early. He’d gone home, parked his
truck in the driveway, then made the four-street trek to Lana’s by foot. And
the nosy onlookers were none the wiser.

Just the way he and Lana wanted it.

He heard the soft click of Lana’s boots before he
actually saw her. And when she finally emerged from the hall wearing a barely
there, see-through white tank top, a pair of white lacey panties, and those
fuck-me cowgirl boots, he went instantly hard. “Thought I told you to strip
down—everything off except the boots.”

“You did. But seeing how you enjoyed watching me dance
tonight, I figured I’d”—Lana drew in a shaky breath—“give you a private show.”

Randall interlocked his fingers behind his head. “You
have my undivided attention, Sweetheart.”

You can do this
.
Be brave
, she silently chanted. Reaching for the
remote she turned on the stereo and slowly walked forward, beginning her
seductive performance as Whitesnake washed over them. Her hands trembled at
first, her knees weak, but Randall’s attentive gaze, coupled with the sound of
the popular eighty’s band soothed her rattled nerves.

She stood in front of him just out of reach, her body
flowing gracefully, effortlessly. Gathering the hem of her thin white tank, she
teased him with a glimpse of her pierced navel. He groaned softly in
appreciation, and suddenly she wasn’t afraid. Suddenly she felt like the most
beautiful woman in the world.

Suddenly she felt powerful.

With a renewed sense of courage, she stepped in between
the V of his legs and raised the hem higher, higher still. She barely managed
to get her top off before he reached for her breasts. Swatting his hand away,
she flashed a wicked grin. “Huh-uh, I’m not done yet.”

He humored her for another minute or two, but when she
turned away from him and sat on his lap, wriggling her sweet ass against his
fly, his self-control snapped. He reached around, cupping her breasts while
spreading soft kisses over her bare back.

Lana gave in to the pleasure for a few beats, then
abruptly stood to warn him he wasn’t playing by the rules.

Only he followed her up and came at her with eyes
blazing.

She took off running down the hall, squealing when she
glanced over her shoulder, discovering he was one step behind her. When he
finally caught up to Lana in her bedroom, he reached for her arm and gave it a
tug, twirling her around to face him. Without a word, he placed the palm of her
hand against the rock hard bulge behind his fly.

“See what you do to me?” He graveled, slowly backing her
further into the dimly lit master bedroom.

The moment she felt the duvet against the backs of her
legs she sat, the palm of her hand still rubbing the fly of his faded blue
jeans. “You’re overdressed, Mr. Burns.”

With a wry grin, Randall reached over his shoulder and
yanked the light blue tee over his head, his hooded eyes glued to hers. They
stared at one another for a beat or two before Lana lowered her gaze to his
broad, bare chest, down over the ridges and valleys of his six-pack abs, to the
dark trail of hair that disappeared behind the denim.

She watched in amazement as his muscles bunched and
bulged, loving the way his abs tightened as her fingers worked to unbutton his
jeans. The moment his sex sprang free she gripped him, running her tongue along
the length of his hard shaft she sampled the bead of hot liquid that’d
collected along the tip.

A deep moan vibrated from his chest a moment before he
palmed the sides of her face; tilting her head back he looked into her eyes.
“Lie back”, he ordered softly, sternly.

Randall tore into a foil package, quickly rolling the
latex down his length before losing his pants. And when he was gloriously
naked, save from the thin layer of latex sheathing his large shaft, he
carefully hauled her white panties down her thighs, over her fuck-me boots.

Lana stared up at him as his eyes raked over her bare
skin. His slow perusal heightened the ache between her legs. He had this way of
looking at her, a way of making her feel cherished and beautiful. She loved
that about him. Loved how riveted he was at the mere sight of her unclad body.

“Spread your legs for me, Sweetheart”, he uttered just
above a whisper. He waited while she complied, observing the slow movements of
her knees as they gradually opened. “Christ, you’re beautiful.” Climbing onto
the bed he pushed her knees further apart with his hands.

She should feel embarrassed, humiliated, bashful. But the
carnal look in his gray eyes seemed to fan the flame burning inside her. The
moisture between her legs blossomed as he hovered above, his strong hands
holding her knees apart while he looked his fill.

“This is what you do to me”, she whispered seconds before
his mouth came down on her.

The first slick lap of his tongue had Lana panting, and
when he added a finger to the mix, and then another, she reached down, grabbed
a fistful of his hair and rode the wave of pleasure pulsing deep inside. Her
orgasm swiftly slithered through her writhing body, catching her by surprise.
She’d been wound so tight—had been waiting for this moment for four long
weeks—that nearly thirty seconds into his oral escapade, she’d detonated.

At some point she became aware that his hair was still
lodged in her firm grip. “S-sorry”, she said releasing the thick black strands.

“Don’t be”, he mumbled against her hip, spreading soft
kisses up her body. “I love it when you lose control.” His lips brushed over
her stomach near her piercing, steadily continuing north until he reached the
swell of her breasts. He briefly paid homage to her nipples, sucking each hard
nub into his mouth, reigniting her desire almost instantly. “Please”, Lana
moaned, feeling the throbbing ache return between her legs. She had to have
him.

Now.

Needed to feel this powerful man fill her with purpose
and pleasure and... love.

Answering her plea Randall’s weight came down on her,
chest to chest. Skin to skin. Spreading open-mouth kisses along the hollow of
her throat, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled to his back, which
inevitably shifted her body above him.

And then he kissed her, an all-consuming, deep kiss that
told her he was right there with her—teetering on the edge of control.

“I like this vantage point”, Randall murmured when she
broke the kiss and sat upright, her legs astride his hips. Lana smiled, her
long brown locks falling around her pretty face. His hands slowly migrated up
her smooth thighs until they reached the moist, succulent folds between. And
when the pad of his thumb gently brushed over the sensitive nub where his
tongue had been minutes ago, her smile faded on a gasp.

“Now, please”, she begged in a voice she barely
recognized as her own.

Planting one of her palms against his broad, solid chest
Lana lifted her bottom, then guided the tip of his sex into position with her
other hand. Inch by glorious inch, she lowered herself onto him, giving in to
the pleasure-pain as her tight flesh stretched to accommodate his thick shaft.

“Christ, Lana.” With Lana now fully seated on his cock,
he dug his fingers into her hips to hold her steady. “Hold on, Sweetheart. I
just”—Randall blew a puff of air from his lungs—“need a sec.”

Feeling generous she gave him exactly two seconds before
she wriggled her bottom, garnering enough friction to cause a whimper to flee
her lips. She was burning up inside, smoldering when she looked down at him
again. Because something about his unsteady breaths, his tightly clenched jaw,
and the salacious haze in his hooded eyes hinted that he was barely clinging to
his self-control. Randall Burns was an alpha male through and through. He was
the commander in his previous relationships—always the one to lead—always
dominating. The ringmaster.

And he was giving that up. Giving her carte blanche over
him
.

This was her show, now. She was the director.

She was in charge.

Gazing into the depths of her blue eyes he eased his
grip, giving Lana the signal she’d been waiting for.

Planting both palms on his solid chest for leverage, she
lifted her bottom, rising onto her knees until the tip of his cock brushed the
gateway to her core. And when Randall drew in a breath through clenched teeth
with a hiss, she slid back down his thick rod until she was fully seated again.

Lana quickened the pace to her unbridled ride, feeling
powerful and unbelievably sexy. The expression on his face, the passion in his
eyes, fueled her. Knowing she had this effect on him brought her closer to the
pinnacle of pleasure. His roughened voice urged her on until finally she
shattered, throwing her head back, chanting his name, practically melting into
him, never wanting the riveting sensation to end.

With a few choice obscenities, Randall gripped her hips
steady and thrust into her from below, his body flexing under her fingertips as
he followed her over the edge.

Moments later Lana leaned forward, pressing her weary,
sweat-slickened body against his. There was a stretch of comfortable silence as
they both worked to draw air into their lungs.

Still buried deep in her tight heat Randall swaddled his
arms around her, needing to get closer. Nuzzling her neck, he swept his lips
along her salty-vanilla skin. “I have an idea.”

“I’m all ears”, Lana sighed contentedly, feeling him
smile against her neck.

“Let’s hit the shower. I’ll wash your back, you wash
mine.”

“Feeling dirty again, are you?”

Randall chuckled softly against her ear. “Something like
that.”

“Good. I like it when you’re dirty.”

With a sudden renewed spark Randall gripped her ass and
stood, making his way into the master bath, letting Lana’s sweet laughter wash
over him.