One Little Kiss (Smart Cupid) Page 7

  She turned her head to catch her lips. “Yes,” she whispered.

  And that word was everything he needed to hear.

  He tugged away the small straps of her dress to reveal the naked skin of her shoulders and back, the shapely line of her body. He slipped the cotton away from her skin and his kiss traveled across her back, her ribs, along the delicate lines of her shoulder blades, the back of her neck. She twisted toward him, softly whimpering, wanting more.

  But he wasn’t finished showing her all the erotic places a kiss might lead.

  With one of his knees between her legs, he fell back on his haunches as his hands moved to her hips and slipped under the hem of the dress to burn an intimate trail along the inside of her thighs. He’d never felt so turned on, so invested in showing a woman all the pleasures of her body. What was it about her that made him feel lighter, more free than he’d felt in years? He wanted her to feel free, too. Maybe he couldn’t give her everything. But he could give her this.

  Easing his body closer, he let his fingers slip inside her panties. She was wet, ready. Her body moved against his playing fingers, eager to find release. His thumb circled, easing in and out of her in time with the seductive thrusts of his hips from behind. His mouth moved against her neck and jaw, tracing a hot, wet line to her earlobe as his hands continued to work her breasts and her clit. She arched back, giving him more access to her body, and for the love of Jesus, he’d never seen a sexier woman in his entire life. But he wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

  He pressed her body back down with his and whispered against her ear. “I want to make you come. Now. Right now.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, “Now.”

  His hands at her hips, he flipped her onto her back. His mouth found her lips, kissing her deeply as he slipped his fingers deeper inside her, sending tiny bolts of lightning flashing through her. “Come for me, Kate.”

  “Yes,” she said, her breathing ragged as she edged closer. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

  Her naked pleading thrilled him to his core. He wanted to give her more. Oh God, this is definitely not good.

  He knew it as his mouth captured her soft strawberry lips. He knew it when his hands coaxed her to the edge, and her pleading sounds turned to satisfied cries, the pleasure rushing through her body as he guided her through a series of tremors. He knew.

  This is better than good.

  This is fucking great.

  All he cared about was feeling. Feeling her body. Feeling her move. Feeling her body come apart with pleasure. Damn, he wanted more of her now. Right here. Now. In the middle of this storm. He wanted to make her body thrill while he drove inside her until she begged him to make her come. Again and again and again.

  Stuck here all night.

  He made a low sound at the back of his throat. The last time his body had craved a woman like this was ages ago. So long ago he couldn’t remember. If he’d ever craved a woman so desperately. He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was because he’d been in a sex-free zone for longer than he cared to admit. But this woman? He couldn’t keep his hands off her. He tugged her close, and together they fell back against the Scrabble board. He shoved it aside. Guaranteed. He should stop. Great sex.

  Her hands moved to the waist band of his low-slung sweats, and with her gaze locked onto his, she slipped her hand inside and pressed her palm against the bulge in his boxer briefs. He groaned, so ready.

  Unable to wait, he dragged his sweats and underwear past his hips and kicked them onto the blanket. A smile spread across his face, and he eased her panties over her hips enough to slide his fingers back inside her. She was so slick and wet. So ready. Again. His fingers worked her delicately, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. But this time, he didn’t let her come.

  He pressed his fingers deep inside and flicked her clit with his thumb, loving the raw need etched across her features, all laid out for him to see. Her body shuddered as his fingers circled her core, easing in and out of her

  “Does that feel good?” he asked, his breathing shallow, every part of him waiting for her response. “Do you want more?”

  She answered without words, bringing his mouth crashing down on hers, as she tugged his shirt away, her body bucking against his playing fingers, her hips rising and falling in a series of small pleading movements.

  Jesus, Jake hadn’t thought it was possible to get any harder, but he was wrong. So wrong. His body literally ached with need. “I want to be inside you.”

  “Yes,” she said. “God, yes.”

  Outside, hurricane winds roared, but the tropical storm was nothing compared to the fever-pitch of desire raging inside him. He slipped her rumpled dress from her body and tossed it aside, leaving her naked except for her lacy red bra. With just the small scrap of lace between them, they lay together, practically naked in the dim light, the sound of the rain falling in a hush around them. His eyes roamed the curves of her candlelit body, taking in the gentle curve of her stomach, the way her nipples hardened with need, and her breath grew shaky as her body trembled with anticipation. He took his time, stroking her everywhere, tormenting every inch of her body, until the ache inside him demanded more.

  Every fiber of his body pulsed, aware of every inch of her as he positioned his hips above her. His eyes locked onto hers as he cradled her body against his.

  “You are so pretty.” Her mouth reached up to catch his in reply. He kept right on kissing her, licking, swirling until she shivered uncontrollably. As he directed her hand inside her panties, he whispered against her throat, “Show me what turns you on.”

  And with her gaze still locked with his, she dipped her fingers inside her core for him. So erotic. So intimate. He stayed. Watched her touch herself. Noticed her skin grow flushed and pink and pretty, and goddamn, she looked so fucking sexy. Her hips rose as small sweet sounds of desire escaped her. When she was close, he dropped a kiss on her mouth, his lips lingering as he whispered, “Be right back. Stay ready for me.”

  A desperate moan of protest escaped her swollen lips as he rolled away. His long strides covered the space to his bedroom in record time. He grabbed a blue foil packet from his nightstand—his one and only he kept there. If there was going to be another round, they’d have to break into the stash he had in his closet or the bathroom…or somewhere. Hell, he’d find them. He rushed back, hoping to God there’d be more than one round. She was still there, naked except for the lace. The sight of her pleasuring herself, keeping her body ready to accept his, turned him on in a way he could not explain.

  He lowered his body next to her, and she reached for him, rolling the condom over his aching cock, her light touch making him desperate. His mouth fell to hers, and he pulled her close, their heated bodies searching for each other. When they could wait no longer, he entered her slowly, allowing her to accept him, increasing his rhythm as her hips moved upward, her rising body welcoming him deep inside. But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. He wanted to her hear cry out his name. Wanted to feel her come apart while his cock was inside her.

  He moved deeper, stroking her delicate insides, searching for that sweet spot, pushing her to the limits of pleasure.

  “Come for me again, Kate,” he whispered against her lips. Her breathing grew ragged, and she bit down hard on her bottom lip, whimpering softly, desperately close to climax. He drove deeper, aiming for the place he knew would make her shatter. A pleading sound erupted from her throat as he guided her through a series of a small earthquakes coaxing her to orgasm once on her own, before enticing another climax to match his. As the candles flickered all around them, she curled against his naked, spent body in a way that spelled out more than a one-night stand of guaranteed great sex.

  Damn, he thought, kissing the edge of her temple in a gesture so sweet and romantic, it literally surprised him. YES. The word echoed through his brain, a small word loaded with meaning, a small word that could change everything. He drew in a long breath and pulled her close. YES. Outsi
de, the driving rain continued, and they lay together on the cozy blanket, listening in the dark as the wind swirled and howled like some kind of out-of-control promise. But he wasn’t a man who believed in promises. Or soul mates. He was a man who was finished with love.

  Tomorrow she’d go back to the city. And he’d stay here. But right now, tonight, he wanted this woman. He wanted her in any and every way she’d take him. His fingers trailed along the curve of her naked hip, and she glanced up at him, a sexy smile lifting the edges her lips. Great sex, guaranteed.

  Too bad it all ended tomorrow.

  Chapter Seven

  Wow. So…that happened.

  How it’d happened, she wasn’t 100 percent sure. Well, she was… A game of Scrabble, a guarantee, the perfect kiss…but still. Wow.

  So where was her oh-so-willing-to-please bachelor? She blinked her now familiar surroundings into focus: the dark gray walls, the high thread count sheets that would have cost her a week’s salary, the yummy, nearly naked man stepping into the room from the shower.

  Double wow.

  Jake gave her a half-smile. “Morning.”

  A sigh escaped her. Literally escaped her; she couldn’t have prevented it if she’d tried.

  Conjuring up a been-here-before smile, she rolled onto her left hip and struck her best Cosmo girl pose. “Good morning to you, too.”

  He responded to her obvious flirtation by anchoring the towel at his waist. She bit down on her bottom lip. Last night with Jake had been phenomenal. She hadn’t known two people could generate that kind of heat. In her past relationships, she hadn’t felt a fraction of the raw desire or slow satisfaction that had flooded her system with him. And looking at him now, in all his half-naked glory, she was ready to do it again.

  Shockingly ready.

  Kate watched as he strolled over to the dresser, opened a drawer, and pulled out a pair of faded Levis and a gray T-shirt. Her gaze zeroed in on the jeans. Denim was definitely not conducive to an encore. Hoping he’d take a hint, she let the sheet drop a lower, revealing a little cleavage. But instead of forgoing the clothes, he yanked the towel away, tossed it playfully in her direction, and stepped into the jeans. Commando-style. She liked it. Of course, she’d like it better if he climbed back into bed.

  Instead, he walked over and dropped a quick kiss on her mouth. “Do you want coffee?”

  She blinked. Could he really be talking about coffee? Because all she could think about was how to get him to unzip his jeans. “Yes,” she said. “Coffee’s good.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll get the caffeine rolling.” He yanked the shirt over his head—more’s the pity—and picked up his glasses from the nightstand and settled them against the bridge of his nose. “I need to make a few repairs, but I promise I’ll be done in time to take you to the airport in time for your flight.”

  All her dreamy notions about romantic afternoons and more mind-blowing sex careened to a sudden halt. “My flight?”

  “Back to Manhattan. The charters will be running again by this afternoon.”

  She heard him talking, but she failed to comprehend. Yes, it’d been one night, but…he’d already booked her flight? The one-two combo of anger and disappointment jabbed at her insides, an emotional sequence too complicated to contemplate, so she shoved it aside. “You booked my flight?”

  “I reviewed the schedule, made sure flights were taking off.” He took a step back. Physical distance, check. Emotional distance, double-check. His ex must’ve really done a number on him. “But I can book it, if you’d like.”

  “No, I can take care of it.” One night. No interview. A man of his word. Despite all her cool girl thoughts, she’d not been ready.

  He rubbed a hand across the heavy stubble on his jaw. Buried his hands in his pockets. Cleared his throat. “Okay, then.”

  “Okay,” Kate said, forcing an ease into her voice she didn’t feel. She tugged the sheet up an inch or two. They’d been clear that this was a one-night stand. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she wanted something more. A two-night stand. A three-night stand. A…

  A what? A relationship?

  No. She was here to try out not rushing headlong into that self-defeating goal.

  Jake gestured toward the bathroom. “You know where everything is…towels and…” His words trailed off as his gaze fell on the red bra peeking out from beneath the sheet. He cleared his throat again. A habit she suddenly found annoying. “Take your time.”

  She wrapped the sheet around her backside and tugged the scrap of lacy material back under the sheet with her toes. “Thank you.”

  “Of course.” He bent to brush another swift kiss across her mouth, shoved his hands back into his pockets, and wandered out of the room.

  She watched him go, her body aching in all the right places, his musky male scent still clinging to her skin. Her mouth twisted to one side. Clearly, she’d been wrong about one thing. Great sex was not necessarily part of the whole star-spangled, bells ringing, love-forever package. Not always. Because no matter how incredible she’d felt last night, no matter how great the sex, Jake Wright was obviously not The One.

  For starters, he lived in a cliffside stronghold where he probably never heard more than the wind. She lived in a city with subway grime and commuter noise, where every corner housed a Starbucks ready to pony up a Venti Bold Pick of the Day. He wanted to hide. She wanted to live. To grab the Big Apple by its stem and take a big bite out of it. She wanted to be so much more than that pretty girl from Ohio. She wanted to be out there, feeling the pulse of the world.

  More than anything, she wanted to love. Real love. Deep down and forever. Jake Wright may have written all those beautiful words in his book, but obviously, great sex aside, he was a man who refused to believe in relationships. Heck, he was maybe incapable of offering one anymore. And for better or worse, she was a girl looking expectedly for love.

  But did that really have to be a deal breaker?

  True, the fact he’d practically booked her flight home stung, but she’d enjoyed last night—more than she imagined possible. Chasing love had only brought her lousy dates and heartache. Instead of worrying about finding the right guy and the right relationship, she should be focusing on having fun, on enjoying her life.

  Commit to not looking.

  Maybe that was what Deepak Chopra meant by the Law of Least Effort. If she stopped looking for that perfect man, stopped expending all her effort trying to create the right kind of romantic relationship, and instead, focused on living her life, then The One would find her.

  No more planning relationships. Yes. Absolutely. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t plan other things, things like an interview with a reluctant bachelor. She eyed a teeny-tiny bikini peeking from the top of her bag, a new plan developing in her brain,

  One night. No interview—fine. But the night was officially over.

  He wanted to book her flight. No more guaranteed great sex? Fine. No more guarantees at all, she thought, pulling the bikini from her bag. Last night may have been off the record, but this morning? Well, she was for damn sure not leaving without her interview.

  Kate tossed aside the sheet and climbed out of bed. Mr. Ex–Sex Factor had better get ready, because this love blogger still had a few cards to play, and more than a few questions for her bachelor. A small smile touched her lips. Like it or not, today was totally on the record.

  …

  While he waited for Kate, Jake busied himself with the removal of the hurricane panels. Anything to keep from striding inside, slipping into the shower, and pressing her slick, naked body up against the cool tile. Dammit—no. Where was his famous self-control? A ten second shower fantasy had his dick twitching in his pants.

  Sure, he’d enjoyed last night. What red-blooded male wouldn’t have? The heat between them had been unbelievable, a fact he’d simply chalked up to his non-existent sex life. But now, he wanted more.

  Waking up next to her this morning, listening to her soft breathing,
seeing her so cozy and vulnerable, he’d felt…hell, he didn’t know what he felt, but he didn’t want to feel anything. Not cozy. Not vulnerable. Nothing. Not even the fact that he wanted to bury himself inside her more than…Jesus Christ—no. He slammed the hammer hard against the side of the panel. No.

  Needing distraction this morning, he’d called the resort to check on the safety of the guests, verify the restoration of power, authorize clean-up crews. He’d accomplished a lot while Goldilocks slept. Even managed to confirm the availability of her flight back to Manhattan. Made him feel like a real asshole later, watching her try to cover her disappointment.

  The muscles in his jaw tensed. Hurting her had not been his intention. He was a fixer, not a man who broke hearts into uneven pieces.

  This was why he didn’t date anymore, including what they’d done last night.

  But revising his “one night, no interview” commitment wasn’t an option. Kate Bell needed to head back to the city, and he needed to keep his freaking wits about him. Before he did something stupid. Like ask her ask to let him explore every delicious inch of her depths. Listen to her honeyed sounds. Make her crazy. Blow. Her. Mind. He felt his throat constrict. Hadn’t thought of that one for a while. Hadn’t wanted to.

  After trading the hammer for a power drill, he set the bit against the plywood and started into the panel. But when Kate sashayed onto the wraparound porch, Jake took one look at her, forgot to release the go button on the drill, and drove a hole straight through the storm cover.

  “Dammit.”

  He yanked the tool away. So much for his custom-made shutters.

  Fighting back a smile, she eyed his drill bit. “Need help?”

  “No, I do not need…” Aw, fuck.

  Jake pointed the tool toward the ceiling and tried to breathe. He needed oxygen. Why was no oxygen going to his brain? Maybe because most of the oxygenated blood in his body was rushing due south. Then again, how could he blame his brain for allowing the detour?