Need You Now (1001 Dark Nights)(5)

It’s a surprising question that ends our sweet silence, but somehow, coming from him, it’s not a demand. It’s a further seduction. “Never.”

“Do you know how dangerous it is to trust someone you don’t know?”

A shiver runs down my spine but it’s not the fear such a question should create in me. I’m aroused, my sex clenching, my thighs damp. “Yes,” I reply. “Yes, I do.”

“And yet, you’re here.” The words are thoughtful, as if he’s contemplating why that might be rather than asking me for an answer I don’t have, and he never gives me a chance to deliver.

Abruptly, he releases my hands, rotating me to face the wall, and my hands press to the smooth surface. He steps into me, the thick pulse of his erection nestled to my backside once again, his breath warm on my neck, by my ear. He nips my ear with his teeth. “You don’t begin to know how dangerous it is. Or what I can do to you if I so please. Right here. Right now.” He yanks my dress all the way up to my waist, the black thong I’m wearing leaving me naked to his touch, his palm caressing my cheeks. “A good man would spank you for taking the risk.”

My heart leaps. “What? No.” I try to turn, afraid I have made a mistake, but his powerful thighs cage me in. “No, I—”

“But I’m not a good man,” he continues, his hands high on my ribcage, fingers framing my breasts. He leans in, his head dipping low, his lips grazing my neck. “I’m the kind of bad guy good girls like yourself run from.”

It’s an erotic thrill that is one part fear and one part electricity. I believe him. And I believe that is exactly what drew me to him. He is what I am not and never will be. He is daring, dark, completely without the many inhibitions I hate that I possess. Rejecting that part of me, I declare, “I’m not running.”

“You should be.” He reaches down and yanks away my panties. I yelp with the shock of the action and there is just a hint of fear in me, but there is also arousal, there is a burn low in my belly. I want to know what his kind of bad is in a way I am not sure I’ve ever wanted in my life. “The list of ways I’m going to make you come is long and creative,” he assures me, the words licking at my sex the way I want his tongue to, and soon. Please, soon. “But,” he continues, “I’m going to start by licking your *. I want to know how you taste.”

I feel him shrug out of his jacket and then he’s squatting, hands on one of my calves, caressing up, up, up. His fingers graze my sex, trailing over the slickness there, delving inside me. He strokes back and forth and I’m so aroused I think I might come, but he doesn’t give me that one last touch I need. He moves again, his touch gone in a moment, leaving me cold, but it doesn’t last. He sits against the wall and slides in front of me, his hands shackling my hips. I look down, his eyes meeting mine, or mine his, I don’t know, but that’s when his tongue licks my clit.

My lashes lower and my knees nearly buckle with the spiral of pleasure that one touch of his tongue delivers. His mouth clamps down over my sex and the licking, sucking, and tasting begins, and I lose myself, completely, totally lose myself to pleasure. I drift into the sweet, dark sticky place that consumes me like honey does a bee, controlling me, claiming me, but it is not complete. The buzzing of a cell phone, his not mine, breaks through the spell, but he ignores it, pressing two fingers inside me, stretching me, pumping into me. I begin to lose reality again, hanging on a proverbial ledge, so close to that blissful sweet hotspot, when the phone in the hotel room sounds. This time though, I am too far over the edge to be pulled back. I stiffen and my body clenches, the orgasm spiraling through me, sensations rippling in my sex and darting to every nerve ending I own.

I lose time. I lose the ability to stand and his arm wraps my hips, holding me up. I blink and he’s staring up at me, watching every feeling I have ripple over my face, his fingers still between my thighs. “I’m done,” I say before I can stop myself.

Amusement lights his eyes. “You are far from done, I assure you.” His cell starts to ring again and his fingers slide out of me. I expect him to take the call but he stands and takes my hand. “Come with me.” He shackles my wrist and starts forward, and I am embarrassingly aware of my missing panties and skirt to my waist as he all but drags me toward the bedroom.

We make it to the edge of the bed and he tugs me back against him, his hands cupping my naked ass. “You taste like—”

The hotel phone rings and he curses, running a rough hand through his hair. He sets me on the bed. “I’ll deal with this and then with you.” He steps away, giving me his back as he grabs the phone, and a wave of discomfort overwhelms me. Who calls at this time but a wife or a girlfriend? What am I thinking? This is something my mother would do.

“Not now,” he bites out to his call. “No. I said—” Whoever it is cuts him off.

My mind starts dancing to a hard rock tune that is far more midnight demise than midnight seduction. I’d been in the elevator. There are cameras. This is my workplace. I stand up and my heart is in my stomach. Yanking down my skirt, I half wish he’d turn and half wish he wouldn’t. I want him to convince me this wasn’t a mistake. His mouth could convince me. His body could convince me. I have his back. His back. He won’t look at me. This feels wrong, off in every way. This was a mistake.