Some Like It Hotter (Sweet Life in Seattle #3) (20 page)

“I want to take over.”

It figures
. “We can’t both be in charge.”

“I know, so let me have my way with you. I’ve still got all those vibrator fantasies I want to live out.”

He has to admit he’s curious about these fantasies of hers. Their eyes meet and he feels her leg slip behind his thigh. She’s soft and inviting, and a part of him wants to take her right now, though at this rate he’d probably last two seconds.

“All right.” He sighs. “We’ll try it your way and see how it goes.”

She gives him a wicked look, and he wonders what exactly it is he’s agreeing to. “Lie on your back,” she tells him.

Giovanni releases her hand and rolls over, trying to avoid jostling the mattress too much with his large body. When he’s lying flat, he reaches back and tucks a pillow behind his head.

She’s sitting back with her legs tucked under her, waiting patiently.

He decides to attempt a joke. “What now, mistress?”

Lindsay laughs then gives him another wicked look. Her long brown curls tumble forward, blocking his view of her body as she kneels before him. When he moves to brush her hair back, she stops him. “You don’t get to touch me.”

“
What?
” He goes still with surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, that’s part of my fantasy. No touching allowed until I tell you.”

“There’s no way I’m agreeing to that.”

“You said you’d give it a try.”

“Well, forget it.” He softens his voice and slides his hands down her hip. “Come on, Lindsay. I have to be able to touch you.”

She leans closer until she’s hovering right above him. Her hair falls softly against his face, her feminine scent drifting over him, sweet and musky. “Just relax,” she whispers in his ear. “I promise you’ll like it.”

“I don’t believe this,” he mutters, as she reaches down and grabs both his hands, placing them over his head.

“Don’t make me tie you up.” She eyes him with a playful gleam.

“You think I’d let you?”

“Yes, I do.”

He takes in her lively expression. She’s right. He would let her tie him up. To be honest, he’d probably let her do anything to him she wanted. It’s becoming apparent how beauty is the least of her charms. He’s never been involved with an artist before and has to admit he enjoys her offbeat way of seeing the world.

“Close your eyes,” she tells him.

He does as she asks.

“Keep them shut, no peeking.” Lindsay climbs off the bed, and he wonders what she’s up to. He hears her go into the bathroom and turn on the tap.

She’s in there for a short while before there are sounds from the mini fridge. Giovanni can’t resist smiling to himself and with amazement realizes he’s having fun.

He hears her feet padding softly on the carpet as she moves closer. “I’m impressed by how well you’re following instructions,” she tells him, getting back onto the bed. “I wasn’t sure if you could do it.”

Not only is he having fun, but all this subterfuge is turning him on. Maybe there’s something to the notion of letting someone else take over occasionally.

“For that, you get a little reward.” Suddenly, Lindsay is above him. He senses her body and then her mouth is on his, kissing him. Their tongues slide over each other’s in a sensual dance.

When she breaks away, he opens his eyes, gazing up at her.

“Hey, no peeking.” Her voice is breathy, mouth still open. A warm feeling glides through him as he remembers that this is her fantasy about
him
.

He starts to reach for her but manages to stop himself in time. “It’s hard to keep my hands still.”

“Relax,” she says softly. “Let someone take care of you for a change.”

He blinks, his throat going tight as her words sink in. He can’t remember the last time someone offered to take care of him. For an instant, his body tenses with adrenaline, ready to dismiss all this as nonsense.
I don’t need anybody to take care of me
.

But he knows it’s a lie. One he’s been living with for a long time.

Giovanni closes his eyes again.

He lets himself give in to Lindsay and all her seductive ways. Her mouth glides down to his throat then his chest, playing with his nipples for a while, using her mouth and fingers, before moving lower. Her hands caress him everywhere. All the while, there’s this strange energy coursing through him, pooling in the pit of his stomach. It’s mostly pleasurable, but there’s an edge to it he doesn’t understand.

She pushes his legs apart and moves between them, biting his left thigh hard enough to make him groan. It should disturb him, but it’s turning him on even more.

Lindsay moves away for a moment and takes something from the nightstand. He hears liquid sounds and then her hand is on his cock, grasping him, fingers pulling on his length in a way that means business.

When she finally puts her mouth on him, it’s warm—hot, actually—and it takes him a second to realize she’s heated it. He thinks back to the tap he heard running in the bathroom.
So Lindsay is an artist in more ways than one
. The sensation is incredible, and he’s trapped by the eroticism as she takes over, giving him head with her hot mouth, his whole body trembling.

He’s on the verge of stopping her, worried he’s going to explode, but then she pulls back, and he feels cool air on his dick.

There’s panting sounds in the room, like some kind of beast, and it’s him. He swallows, tries to calm down. His arms are still above his head, gripping the smooth wooden headboard.

But then her mouth is on him again, except this time it’s ice-cold.

He startles. Hisses. The sensation is unreal. He opens his eyes to watch her. The way she’s bent over him, moving up and down with her mouth and hand. Lindsay cups his balls with her other hand—also icy.

“Jesus . . .” More than anything, he wants to touch her. He’s relieved when he reaches down, and she doesn’t stop him from sliding his hand beneath her hair, lightly rubbing the back of her neck.

She takes another drink from a bottle, swishing it through her mouth before going down. It’s hot and he sucks in his breath. “This is . . . incredible,” he manages between gasps.

She looks up at him with a seductive smile. “I told you you’d like it.”

He nods, and there’s something about her expression. He can’t pull his eyes away. What she’s doing is base and earthy, but he can see on her face it’s more than that for her, and he realizes she’s doing exactly what she said she would.

She’s taking care of me
.

His breath shakes, and it’s not just from the blow job.

Lindsay looks up again. Their eyes stay on each other for a long moment, and his whole body feels lighter. His heart pounds. “Come here.” Giovanni reaches for her shoulders to bring her closer.

She rises and climbs over him, but halts at his groin and puts a knee on each side to straddle him.

It’s not what he meant, but he isn’t stopping her either. He doesn't want to stop her. He grasps her hips and his body tenses as she takes hold of him again, lowering herself.

“Lindsay,” he breathes. His eyes fall shut against his will. He wants her so badly that he’s grateful.
So damn grateful
.

She sinks onto him and slowly starts to move, and already he’s losing himself. The sensations overtake him fast, like quicksand, until he’s fully immersed and in over his head.

It goes on and on, the two of them together. His control balanced on the edge of a blade, Lindsay’s allure so powerful as she leans over, riding him, her hair in his mouth, her scent on his skin. He can’t get enough. She’s noisy, gasping and moaning, but then puts her mouth close to his, sharing the same breath.

“Fuck me hard,” she begs.

Her words are like lightning and, for a moment, he’s blinded. He growls as something primal takes hold, and in one fluid movement, he flips her so she’s beneath him. A part of him is still careful, mindful of her. But it’s obvious she doesn’t want him careful, doesn’t want him mindful, so he gives her exactly what she does want.

He fucks her hard.

Sweat breaks out on his back as he grabs one of her thighs and pushes it high. Her hands grip his shoulders then move down to scratch his back, but through the haze of hard lust, the whole time he’s still aware of one simple thing.

The wonder of Lindsay—her unique magic.

And, for a split second, he opens himself to it, lets his heart experience her.

And that’s when he understands the edge he’s been avoiding this whole time because it slams down like a metal gate. A steel prison. He wants to fight it, but he doesn’t know how, so he does exactly what he’s been doing for years—the only thing left.

He stays locked inside.

It’s still night, but Lindsay can see the barest hint of orange in the dark sky from their hotel room window.

“How old are you?” Giovanni asks, his voice a low rumble.

She’s lying with her head on his chest, the rhythmic thump of his heart beneath her. She can’t remember the last time she had sex like that, where she wanted to give so much of herself. It frightened her a little.

“Thirty-three.”

“I should have known,” he mutters. His words trail off. “You’re the same age.”

“As who?”

His breathing is slow and deep, and she can tell he’s falling asleep. The exhaustion is coming off him in waves.

“Who am I the same age as?”

“No one . . .” His words slur into sleep. “Forget it.”

Her spidey senses tell her otherwise, and she can’t let it go. “Were you in love with her?”

“Yes.”

“Are you still?”

“No.”

There’s a twinge of jealousy, but she’s more interested in the facts. “Do you still see her?”

Seconds pass. He’s quiet, breathing deeply, and she figures he’s fallen asleep.

“She’s dead.”

Her breath stops. It’s not what she expected, and she feels bad for bringing it up at all. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything more. She figures he really is asleep this time, but he’s not. When he speaks, there’s a bitter note in his voice, one she doesn’t understand.

“Don’t be.”

Lindsay sleeps hard like she’s in a coma. The sun shining through the window with bright intensity is what eventually wakes her up. It takes her a moment to orient herself, but then it all comes back in a crazed downpour—the robbery, the marriage agreement, and finally the night of all-consuming sex with Giovanni.