She frowned. “You’ve made a career out of reading pitches. I don’t think you can say the same about women.”
His hand lingered on her back, his fingers unwilling to part with the feel of her through the jacket.
She wasn’t just beautiful. She was gutsy. Mouthy. Clever. And he wanted her with a keenness he would have never anticipated.
“When I’ve got a good feeling about something, I trust my gut all the way.” He wasn’t backing down. “I made up my mind about you.”
She shook her head, bemused. “That’s how people get hurt. They trust too much, too fast.”
He regretted the dark shadow that crossed her expression, the hurt she’d experienced firsthand.
“So don’t make a commitment. All I’m asking is for is a night. Just one night together to give it a try.” He molded her shoulders in his hands, wanting to haul her close, but wanting even more for her to come willingly. Eagerly. “What have you got to lose?”
A DAMN GOOD QUESTION.
Jamie’s knees grew weaker with each passing moment. Lance’s touch worked a keen magic on her senses while his crazy approach to having an affair sounded better and better. No doubt it was just because she’d fallen under his spell.
But like he said, what did she have to lose? She was the media’s Bad Girl of the moment, the woman most likely to cause a commotion whether she was brawling half-naked or buying her groceries. The media dogged her in the hope of another juicy tidbit. How could it possibly hurt her any more to be with Lance Montero when she was already inextricably linked to him since the video of their meet was posted online?
“I don’t have anything to lose,” she acknowledged, her eyelids falling half-shut under the weight of long-ignored desire. “Not one flipping thing.”
And with that realization, a million inhibitions fell away, discarded like yesterday’s news. She couldn’t come up with any reason why she shouldn’t throw herself at the most gorgeous, sexy, sweetly compelling zillionaire she’d ever met.
“One night,” she agreed, feeling like the bargain gave her permission to be uninhibited without worrying what tomorrow held. “An outrageous girl like me will try anything once.”
Arching up on her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and plastered herself—hip to breast—against Lance. It was a bold contact to initiate without so much as a kiss for a prelude and oh, my. Was it ever a brilliant idea. Her body sang with sweet awareness at the feel of all that broad, masculine muscle. From the rugged plane of his taut abs to the sinewy strength of the arms banded around her, he was all about coiled power.
“You’re not as outrageous as you pretend.” He whispered the words against her ear right before he kissed her just below there.
Delicious chills ran up her spine and she tipped her head back to better enjoy them. Him. This.
“No?” She would go along with anything he said at this point. She just wanted to remain exactly where she was—pressed up against him and on the receiving end of his lips beneath her ear.
“I have a theory that you’ve got a sweet spot.” He cupped her hips and held them to his own, giving her the full, unadulterated preview of what being with him was going to be like.
The hard length of him touched off a fire inside her and she couldn’t hold back a gasp.
“See?” He levered back from her to look her into her eyes. “I might have found it already.”
Her heart ratcheted up the pace, thundering in her chest with the need for more. She couldn’t begin to articulate what she wanted from him. She simply wanted.
With frantic fingers, she set to work on the buttons down his shirt. He hadn’t worn a tie, but he’d thrown on a jacket with his jeans and dress shirt after the game. She needed them off now.
In her head, she thought about explaining that it had been a long time for her. That her ex had quit caring about sex even before the marriage was over, choosing instead to cheat on her. But her brain couldn’t spare enough power to fuel the words past her lips. She was too overwhelmed by the sudden realization that she could have this one night—this one amazing man—for herself. He didn’t care about the bad press her behavior had stirred.
That alone made her heart melt.
But the sizzling way he seemed to really, really want her…Well, that had unleashed something primitive inside her that demanded an answer.
“Let me,” he told her, stilling her awkward fingers as she battled the last shirt button.
Even her hands hummed with the same fiery anticipation that flickered over her breasts and thighs and everything in between. She felt like an electric current had been turned on, and the effect was both exciting and numbing.
He’d pinned her against the glass window at some point, her back to the view of Central Park and the city so that she could only see the lights reflected in his eyes. She liked her view better.
She watched avidly as he shrugged out of his shirt, revealing a white tank top underneath. She only glimpsed the undershirt for a moment since he gripped the hem and yanked it up and off. Leaving her mouth dry at the sight of his well-honed arms and chiseled chest. A tattoo with his jersey number had been etched on his shoulder. Her gaze sank down the line bisecting his pecs and his abs to end at his belt. She reached for the leather, wanting to see more.
“I can’t let you get that far ahead of me.” He manacled her wrists with a gentle touch and steered her away from his belt. “First I want to see more of you.”
Her inclination was to shimmy out of her jacket and dress in two seconds flat, but he tipped her jaw up to look into her eyes and kissed her.
The warm, silken glide of his tongue over hers undid her. She relinquished control, giving more of her weight to the glass behind her so he could do whatever he wished. Clearly, his ideas for how to proceed were just…better.
The scent of his aftershave called to all her pheromones, the bay rum seducing her as much as the faint bristle of his freshly shaved jaw. Vaguely, she noticed when he peeled away her denim jacket and smoothed down the straps of her sundress. But mostly, she felt his kiss. He still cradled her jaw like a precious artifact, positioning her where he wanted her for maximum benefit. She’d never felt so treasured, not even by the man whose name she had once shared.
“Lance.” She breathed his name like a wish come true, breaking the kiss long enough to revel in the rightness of the moment.
“Come to my bed.” He held her dress around her, keeping her covered. “I don’t want anyone but me to see what I uncover next.”
The tenderness of that thought undid her. Half the world had seen her breasts, but he wanted to make them for his eyes only, here…Now.
Nodding, she took the fallen straps in her hands and held the dress in place while he led her through a high-tech kitchen into a small study and, finally, a palatial bedroom. A light flickered on at their arrival, treating her to a quick view of a crisp black-and-white domain dominated by an immense mahogany bed.
He dimmed the light with a switch on the wall, narrowing the world to the two of them again. Her feet sank into lush carpet as he tugged off her dress to pool at her feet.
She knew a moment’s hesitation since her body—her nakedness—had caused so much grief. Would Lance look at her now and think of her past mistakes? But like a balm to her soul, the sight of her in her sheer lace underthings only seemed to inflame Lance. He lifted her up off her feet and hauled her to the bed, depositing her into the thick feather ticking while he shucked his pants.
Excitement coursed through her to be splayed out in front of him in no more than a skimpy strapless bra and matching mauve lace panties, her pulse quickening along with her shallow breath. When he paused to reach into a nightstand—presumably for protection—she couldn’t resist touching the formidable bulge in his boxers. Tracing the heavy length of him with her fingertip, she paused at the head of his shaft and encircled it. The shudder that moved through him was visible even in the dim light and she smiled to think she possessed that kind of power over him. Heaven knew he had it over her in spades.