Body of Work (3 page)

“The hall runs front to back. There’s a candle burning in my bedroom, halfway up on the right.”

“Convenient,” he said while moving.

“Yes, it’s all part of my big plan. First, I planted the phone where you’d find it. A little long-distance mind control and you were at my door. Then, I willed the power to go off so you’d come inside and, you know, take care of me.” He laughed as the amber glow from the candle came into view. “And voilà, candlelight.”

“Sneaky and you have superpowers, I had no idea.”

“There you go, something you didn’t know about me.”

“That’s cheating.” He strode to the bed, holding her close even after she uncurled her legs from his waist to kneel on the mattress.

After the near pitch blackness of the front hall, the candlelit room seemed bright. Bright enough to see every detail of Brian’s face, mere inches away. The twinkling blue eyes, the ginger-blond eyebrows that were a few shades lighter than his close-cut hair and beard, lips that belonged on a sculpture of a Greek god—all right here for her to admire while he stared right back. Brian was in
her
bedroom, holding her in his arms. He’d already given her an orgasm that’d turned her legs to jelly and unless the roof caved in, he was about to fuck her. This couldn’t be real.

“Your turn to fess up, cutie.” He’d called her that at the gym. Those times, the pet name had sounded friendly and casual. Hearing him use it when he wanted her to spill some naughty secret, cutie sounded anything but innocent.

“I took—” Holy crap, was she really going to tell him this? His eyes tracked her tongue as she licked her lips. Yep, she really was. “I took your picture at the gym. With my phone. More than one picture, actually.”

A massive grin spread across his face. “You really are sneaky. What did you do with the pictures?”

Oh, the usual, propped the phone against her pillow and looked at them while masturbating. “Nothing.” She sounded like a woman who’d crossed the desert without a drop to drink.

“I’d like to see that.”

Oh god.

“But not now. Watching you do
nothing
would mean taking my hands off you, and I don’t think I can do that tonight. Not for longer than it takes to do this.” He let her go to peel off his t-shirt, push down his uniform khakis and kick them aside. The boxer briefs followed suit.

Oh. God. As she’d imagined from the snug fit of his t-shirts, he had shoulders like five-pin bowling balls. Ridges of muscle carved his abs into two strips of rectangles. A light dusting of blondish-ginger hair on his broad chest tapered to a southbound trail. His mouthwatering cock jutted upward, long, thick and extremely hard.

“Wow. I’m totally going to be picturing you
this way
every time I see you at the gym.”

“I want a picture too.”

“No problem, I’ll grab my camera.”

All that hard manliness blocked her escape. “A picture of
you
. To call up every time you walk through the door…other times too.” He pushed the robe from her shoulders, shaking his head when she tried to catch it in the crooks of her elbows. “All the way off.”

The silky fabric slid the remaining distance, leaving her fully exposed in front of the sexiest man she’d laid eyes on—and in her secret line of work shooting erotic photos, she’d seen a few.

Brian’s eyes traveled over her body, from her damp hair to her quaking knees. “This is a pretty picture.”

“If I’d thought for one second you would ever be looking at my naked body, I would’ve spent my savings on a boob job instead of new camera equipment.”

“Would’ve been a waste of your money.” His palms slid under her breasts, cupping them as he had in the darkened hall.

She groaned, one part pleasure, two parts dread. Good god, her itty-bitty boobs practically disappeared in his hands.

“Some guys love big breasts, the bigger the better.”

“Not exactly breaking news to the small-chested girl you’re fondling.”

His lips grazed the top of her breast, the warmth from his chuckle raising goose bumps all over her body. “I don’t care how big they are—”

“Or aren’t?”

“Or aren’t.” Another chuckle. “I’m more of a nipple guy than a breast man. I like,” his tongue swirled around one of her tips, “gorgeous, responsive,” his lips latched on and suckled hard before letting it slide free, “nipples.” His eyes flicked to her face. “Even better if they’re bite-sized.”

That was the warning he gave before nipping her distended bud. Balance failed her and she toppled backward. Not a bad thing, since she took him down with her. Her legs parted for him, or maybe he nudged them apart. Didn’t matter who or how, or even why. He was between her legs, covering her with his massive body, scraping and tugging at her nipples with the exquisite pleasure that rode the edge of pain.

“Harder—bite me, make me scream.” Not something she’d ever demanded of a new lover, but with Brian…

Growling vibrated against her breast. He clamped down harder. His teeth…god, his teeth. Heat flared beneath his mouth, spread through her body. He increased the pressure. Found her other nipple with his fingers and squeezed.

Forget restraint, she just—wanted. She clawed his back, got her hands lower, on his butt, pulling him tighter on top of her. She curled her legs around him. His cock pressed against her clit, rubbing, sliding back and forth. Pushing her closer, closer. He released her nipples and she groaned in protest.

“Scream for me.” He bit down again, rocketing sparks to every cell in her body. He ground his hardness onto her clit, pressing her flat to the mattress while she flew out of her skin, out of her mind.

And screamed his name.

Cassie screaming his name while bucking beneath him like a barely restrained animal stole the last of his control. Hands and mouths were everywhere. His and hers, clawing, grabbing, kissing, licking, biting.

“Fuck me.”

As commanded, his cock angled lower. It bumped her entrance, so fucking wet and hot he could barely keep from sliding inside. The slightest move and he’d be buried. Deep. Fucking this tiny goddess in ways she’d never forget. Ways he’d never fucked any woman, always holding back for fear of terrifying them, or worse, hurting them. Cassie’s demands had unlocked his beast. He sure as hell hoped it wasn’t an act, because that key was fucking gone.

She managed to wiggle despite his mass pinning her. Soft heat hugged the head of his cock. “Fuck me…” The sexiest rasp he’d ever heard said the words he wanted to hear. “Fuck me hard.”

Call it a fucking miracle that reason pushed harder than his cock. “Condom.” One word was about all he could manage at this point.

“Crap. Right,” she said, followed by an irritated tsk.

That was the Cassie he knew—cute, too sweet to use bad words. He needed that reminder before he fucked everything up, permanently and irreparably. She didn’t know what she’d asked, or how much—and how hard—he wanted to give in to her request.

“Bedside table, top drawer, unless you brought your own?”

Hell yeah, he’d come prepared. But waste time rifling around for his wallet? No chance.

She gave a frustrated sigh, her full, expressive lips set in an adorable pout when he lifted his weight. Two very different women lived in her hot little body, and he wanted them both. He went in for another kiss before pulling away completely. Sweetness and passion mingled, tempting him to take a stupid chance and slide between her legs again.

“Mmm…hurry. I need you.”

Damn. In more ways than one. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Would you try to catch me if I did?”

“Try?” Back turned, he smiled while scooping a condom packet from her drawer. “You’re as good as caught if you think you’re getting away from me now.”

Fabric rustled behind him. A puff of Cassie’s breath plunged the room into darkness. “Guess that means you’re it.” The hardwood squeaked under her scurrying footsteps and the door closed with a halfhearted slam.

The little brat. She had a head start and a lay of the land. But he had the candle—lit again, thanks to the matches he’d spotted in the drawer and some minor fumbling around—and he had motivation. He also had a huge grin on his face. He’d always pegged Cassie for a fun-loving girl, but naked hide-and-seek during a power outage, hiding from the “it” she’d just begged to fuck her hard—that took playful to a whole other level.

He tucked the condom between his palm and the candle. Managed to open the bedroom door without too much noise. Not that he’d be able to sneak up on her. The flickering would give him away, but he was sure to kill himself and possibly trash her house without it. Besides, let her see him approach. Let her get an eyeful of what was to come—literally—once he found her cute little hiding ass.

Combing the main floor of her bungalow didn’t take long. No sign of her in the spare bedroom, bathroom or front hall. Ditto for the kitchen. He did a quick sweep of the living room. Comfy-looking couch, hardback chair that nobody in their right mind would choose to sit in, oversized coffee table—but no Cassie.

“Come out now and I’ll go easy on you for running out and leaving me hanging—or, not hanging, actually.” He expected a giggle or a snort. Nothing. At the lack of response, he padded out of the room. One more place to check—downstairs. He turned the knob on the last unopened door. Pushed it open and stepped into a spacious back entryway. He aimed the sputtering candle around what had to be the classiest mudroom in town. “Nice back door,” he called, loud enough for her to hear him in the basement, wherever she might be hiding. “And
yours
is going to me mine when I find you.” He’d come here hoping she wouldn’t slam the door in his face, now he was promising her perfect little behind a spanking, if not more. He was fucking nuts, saying shit like this. “Ready or not, I’m coming down.”

Something metal scraped in the living room. He froze mid-step, waited. A quiet giggle. A soft thud and more giggling, this time less subtle. Thought she’d fooled him, did she? He set the candle on the floor and crept through the mudroom, down the short stretch of hall to where he planned to end this game—and end it well.

One peek around the archway showed him the source of the noises. Moonlight streamed through the now-open curtains, showcasing one incredible ass and pair of legs, her bare feet bouncing lightly off the arm of the couch. So petite, she didn’t fill the space between the two ends. A big brute like him had no business getting personal with a tiny thing like her. She’d already proven she had the power to strip him of good sense. If he went too far, hurt her…he’d be lucky if it only cost him his job. But goddamn it, he wanted her. With his head, dick and yeah, more. Somehow he’d have to keep a rein on the beast she’d released minutes ago. He had to.

He rounded the corner and leaned on the doorframe. “Told you I’d catch you.”

“I let you. You’d have been searching ’til dawn if I hadn’t given myself up.” A mischievous smile came his way. “You suck at hide-and-seek.”

“Maybe. I’m better at seek-and-hide.” He stepped into the room, his hand wrapped around the item seeking to hide deep inside her body.

“I like the sound of that game.”

His grin calmed the wild thumping in her chest—then stirred it again for much better reasons.

That’d been way too close. She’d wanted Brian to catch her, preferably after a rowdy chase around the couch or kitchen table, anything that would’ve ended with his blood pumping and his hands on her body in a strong, purposeful grip. But rather than search in the most obvious hiding place—standing behind the floor-length drapes—he’d done a quick
man-look
around the room, then disappeared down the hall. Into what any ordinary homeowner would use as a mudroom, but in her house served as a small lobby for her business. That part—no big deal. Then he’d called out that he was heading downstairs. He’d been way too close to seeing her studio, currently set up for tomorrow’s photo shoot with the Mancusos. Thank god she’d lured him back up the stairs in time.

She shifted to a seated position so she could assess—okay, ogle—him from a better angle. Though the power hadn’t returned, the worst of the storm seemed to have passed, and enough light filtered through the picture window to give her an incredible view of naked, mouthwatering man. The silver tone of the moonlight gave his skin a glowing quality. Every ginger hair from his head to his thick, muscular legs seemed to carry a spark. The man was beautiful in the most raw, masculine way she’d ever seen.

“I’d love to shoot you.”

“Kind of an extreme reaction to losing hide-and-seek.”

“With my
camera
.” God, his smile. That alone was a photographer’s dream. As for the rest of him…that was any woman’s dream. He’d certainly figured in all of hers the past couple months. A couple more steps and he stood across from her, only the table separating her from well over six feet of powerful, aroused man.

“Glad to hear it.”

“No guns or dangerous stuff for this girl.”

“Good to know.” His jaw ticked, his amazing smile dropping from twenty out of ten to seven or eight. Still solidly charming, but definitely missing something.

She crooked a finger at him. “Come closer.”

“Table’s in the way,” he tipped his head at her bruiser of a coffee table, “if I come over there, I’ll practically be on top of you.”