The Seraphina Donavan Collection: Contemporary (7 page)

BOOK: The Seraphina Donavan Collection: Contemporary
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CHAPTER THREE

 

D
ixie awoke to the delicious feeling of a warm, male body pressed against hers. Hair roughened legs tangled with hers and a well muscled arm draped over her waist, a callused hand curled just beneath her breast. Waking up with Nick was dangerous for her. It reminded her of all the things she liked about being with him. Fighting the urge to press herself more fully against him, to lift his hand and press it firmly against her breast, she made herself sit up and push the covers back.

He didn’t wake up, just rolled onto his back, murmured something and kicked at the covers. The sheet had slipped down enough to reveal his broad shoulders and perfectly toned chest. He wasn’t heavily muscled, but everything was perfectly, beautifully defined.

Danger zone
, she told herself,
look away
. Getting up from the bed, she walked over to the window and looked out at the pool. It was too early yet for anyone to be out there.

Noise from behind her told her he was awake. She resisted the urge to look back at him, just as she resisted the urge to walk over to the bed, climb on top of him and give both of them the relief they needed. Peering up at the cable concealed in the fold of the curtain, she reminded herself that there were other reasons not to give into to temptation besides it just being a very bad idea.

“Good morning.”

His gruff voice, roughened with sleep, sent chills through her. Girding herself, reminding herself that he was not who she thought he was, she turned around. “Good morning.”

He was getting out of the bed, looking at his cell phone and frowning. His boxer shorts rode low on his hips, doing absolutely nothing to conceal morning wood. Damn, she missed waking up with him when they were on civil terms. He beckoned for her to follow him to the bathroom and since she knew it was the only place in the room where they could speak even semi-freely, she followed.

Walking into the bathroom behind him, she immediately turned around. “Oh my, God! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming in here to pee?” she hissed.

He rolled his eyes. “How many times have you seen me naked? And this bothers you?”

“That was different!” she seethed, still steadfastly staring at the wall. “I wanted to see you naked then!”

“Look, I need you to pick a fight with me…and then I need you to pretend we’re having loud and enthusiastic make-up sex out there.”

Were it not for the fact that he was still mostly naked behind her, she would have whirled on him and given him a piece of her mind. “That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Dixie, there’s a lot riding on this. I need you jumping up and down on that bed and moaning for all you’re worth…loud enough to cover up the sound of me slipping out the door. This is the first I’ve heard from my contact in over a week! The little bit of info I do have, I need to get to someone.”

He was serious. Her jaw agape and her face flaming, she realized he meant every word of it. “You want me to fake orgasms so you can sneak out?”

He grinned at her for a moment. “Yes. I’ve never asked a woman to fake an orgasm before. I guess there really is a first time for everything.”

“This will never work! Won’t they wonder why you’re not making any noise?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. It was a look she’d seen from him often. Mad and sexy.

“It’ll only take a couple of minutes…and I’ve kept my mouth occupied with things other than talking for a hell of a lot longer than that.”

Her face flushed. He had. He really, really had. Just thinking about it had her heart racing. It was so hard to stay mad at him, which she was perfectly entitled to, when all the blood kept rushing to everywhere but her brain. Huffing out a breath; frustrated, embarrassed and strangely turned on, Dixie knew she was in trouble. “What are we supposed to fight about?”

He shook his head at her. “The fictitious money that I owe you. Accuse me of cheating. Whatever.”

“Did you?” It popped out before she could stop herself. Nick was such a good looking guy and in spite of his self-professed nerdiness, she’d seen the way other women eyed him when they went out. He’d appeared oblivious, but maybe he was just a damn good actor.

His eyebrows shot up, a look of utter surprise crossing his face. “Why would you even think that? Dixie, I—No. Just no. I didn’t, I wouldn’t. But this isn’t the time to talk about it.”

He was right. She knew that. Nodding, embarrassed at her own neediness and insecurity, she walked back out into the hotel room and sat down on the bed they’d shared platonically. The same bed she was about to make a fool of herself on, she thought miserably.

Nick emerged from the bathroom and began pulling clothes from the closet. No jumpsuit for the day, just jeans and a t-shirt topped with a ball cap. Even that was sexy. Oh, she was in so much trouble.

He gave her a nod, apparently the signal to get started.

“So, why did you leave?” she demanded. “Why did you just pick up and disappear on me?”

“Baby,” he began, “I don’t want to fight about this. Can’t we just let it go?”

“You had another woman didn’t you?” She laid it on thick, using her most accusatory tone. “It was that slut from the club, wasn’t it?”

He grinned, giving her a thumbs up. “What about you? I saw the way you flirted with that guy at your work! Just a co-worker my ass!”

Getting into the role, she advanced on him, picking up a pillow from the bed and tossing it at him. He batted it aside, sending it crashing into the nightstand, sending the phone and remotes clattering to the floor. “Don’t you turn this around on me! I’m not the one with the sketchy ass track record, you asshole.”

“You knew about my past,” he said sharply. “It’s just like a damn woman to throw it in my face!”

Somehow, in the course of their fake argument, they’d moved closer together. They were both standing beside the bed, only inches apart, their breath mingling hotly. Just as it dawned on her, she saw his eyes widen, his pupils dilating slightly. She knew that look. God, how many times had he looked at her that way and then just dragged her down to the floor, the couch, the stairwell, or any vaguely horizontal surface that was convenient?

His hands came up, gripping her arms gently, coaxing her forward. She didn’t need much enticement. Stepping eagerly towards him, she lifted her face to his. But he didn’t kiss her, instead he whispered next to her ear. “Make it sound convincing.”

Of course, she thought. Feeling a little mean, she moaned softly against his ear, whispering his name. His hands tightened on her arms, his fingers digging into her flesh. She could see a muscle working in his jaw as he stared at her.

Emboldened and knowing that he was not unaffected, Dixie pulled away from him and flounced onto he bed, the springs creaking noisily. “Nick!”

His fists clenched at his sides, as he slowly backed away from her. She bounced on the bed, timing the bounces to cover any sounds the door might make. He paused there in the doorway, throwing one last hot look in her direction before disappearing.

The act was much less enjoyably without him present. Still, she continued. Bouncing on the bed in a rhythm that was just dirty, all the while carrying on like a porn star, she had a moment of pity for anyone who was in the room next door.

It got old very quickly. Her throat started to hurt. Her ass was numb from bouncing on the bed. All the discomforts of sex without any of the reward, she thought bitterly. Feeling more ridiculous than sexy, she was relieved when she heard the door open a few minutes later. Nick had stepped back into the room, but the worried look on his face was less than reassuring. Escalating her performance to it’s faux finish, she was acutely aware of his presence.

When all was said and done, or moaned and done actually, he once again gestured to the bathroom, their conference room.

“Did you meet with your contact?” Dixie asked.

“Yeah, that was fine…but Dixie, Frankie was in the casino schmoozing with Mahoney. All over him. Like teenagers. It was bizarre.”

Dixie shrugged. “Not really. Historically speaking if Frankie hooks up with a man, he’s bad news. The goods news is they don’t tolerate her crazy for long. When she starts in with all the UFO stuff they tend to bail pretty quickly.”

 

~*~*~

 

Nick stared at her for a moment, trying to process what she’d said. Since he was still practically a walking erection, it wasn’t going well for him. Just thinking about the noises she’d made, the way she felt moving under him. Yeah. He was in trouble.

Forcing himself to focus on the immediate concerns, he added, “Dixie, what if she says something to him that blows my cover?”

She laughed. “Oh, honey, no. The last person you have to worry about is Frankie. Everything she says is so random most people ignore it. Also, she’s very cagey. Personal information is sacrosanct to her. She trusts no one, including me.”

He knew that was true. The first time he met Frankie, he’d had to tell her his opinion on the Kennedy assassination, the moon landing and whether or not extra terrestrials were behind the current weather patterns. It had been a three hour conversation and all he’d wanted to do then was the same thing he wanted to do now—get Dixie naked. Still one thing bothered him. Dixie’s fake orgasms that morning hadn’t sounded all that different from her real ones.

Stepping forward, he grasped her wrist and tugged her closer to him. “That was quite a performance you put on this morning…It makes me wonder if maybe you were pretending when you were with me.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The smart ass remark was accompanied by a slight tilting of her lips.

He moved closer, pressing her back against the wall. They were hip to hip and chest to chest. There was no hiding how he was responding to her nearness, and from the way her eyes widened and her lips parted, he knew she was just as turned on. But he had to know the truth. “Don’t be a smartass. Tell me, honestly, were you faking it with me?”

She didn’t answer, just stared up at him wordlessly, challengingly.

Taking the bait, he kissed her, pressing his mouth to hers and devouring the plump curves of her lips. Sliding his hands into her hair, the dark strands tangled around his fingers as he tugged her head back, deepening the kiss.

Dixie didn’t resist, but slid her hands over around his waist, tugging him even closer.

The heat exploded between them. Clothes were ripped, tossed aside carelessly, in a desperate attempt to achieve skin on skin contact. With her shirt hanging open, he tugged the cups of her bra down, revealing the dusky pink tips. Tracing his fingertips over her skin, he circled the tender flesh of her pert nipples, teasing, taunting.

Breaking the kiss on a gasp, she demanded, “For the love of God! Nick, just touch me!”

Closing his fingertips lightly on her nipple, he applied the barest hint of pressure. “Like this?”

“No dammit! Touch me the way you did before—like you can’t get enough of me,” she said breathlessly.

“I can’t,” he admitted. Even as he spoke, he gripped her flesh more firmly, teasing the small bud to a taut peak, before dipping his head and closing his lips over it. Laving her nipple with his tongue, sucking it deeply into his mouth, he was rewarded with a guttural moan from Dixie. Scraping his teeth lightly over the furled flesh, she screamed his name, her hands grasping his hair as her hips rocks against him.

Nick felt like he was burning from the inside out. Being hot for Dixie was the norm for him, but after two weeks of not seeing her, of wondering if he’d ever see her again, having her nearly naked and moaning in his arms was too much. Tugging the zipper of her jeans down, he managed to part the denim just enough to slip one hand inside. She was wet and eager.

Then her hands were on him, tugging at his zipper, coasting over his raging hard on in a way that made his eyes cross, as he hissed out a breath. Stepping back from her, because if she touched him one more time, it would all be over anyway, he took a deep steadying breath. “Strip. Get those damn clothes off now.”

Watching her shimmy out of her jeans was an exercise in torture but it took more strength than he possessed to look away. Once she was naked, he followed suit and then pulled her into the small shower enclosure. The warm water sluiced over them as he turned her around, pressing her against the tile wall. She required no instruction from him, parting her legs for him. With one hand resting on the curve of her hip, he used his other hand to guide his cock to her entrance. Nudging inside her, feeling the hot clutch of her body as she took him inside her.

Her hands pressed against the tiles, her body pushed back against him. Flexing his hips, he drove deeper, pumping into her with slow rhythmic strokes. Every sound she made, every shudder and tremble of her body, spurred him on. Sliding his hands over her wet skin, he cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples, tugging at them. Her head came back to rest against his shoulder, her neck arching in invitation. Dipping his head, he kissed the sensitive skin there where her neck and shoulder met, biting gently in the way that always made her wild.

Any thoughts he had simply fled. It’d begun because he needed to prove to both of them that the passion they’d shared was real. Now, any thoughts of proving a point were long gone and he became lost in the sensations of wet flesh gliding against his, of the heat of her body clenching around him, the tension building inside them both. Soft cries and harsh breathing filled the small shower enclosure.

BOOK: The Seraphina Donavan Collection: Contemporary
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