Calculated Risk (14 page)

Her legs parted willingly, allowing her
to enjoy the sensuous intrusion of his probing finger. She moaned
in delicious abandon as exquisite little currents jolted her body.
Her teeth sank into his shoulder.

“You are incredibly responsive.” His
finger moved deeper, playing with the taut nub of her core. He felt
the wet heat explode against his skin, while her body arched and
bucked around his hand. “So wet…so tight.”

“I…that’s…never …happened before.” Her
words were gasped against his damp shoulder as she shuddered
against him.

“Good.” His mouth found her nipple,
sucking it alternately hard and gentle.

Stevie sought to bring equal pleasure
to Quintin and moved her hand lower, letting her fingers whirl and
tease his hard member. His answering moan of delight corresponded
with the throbbing of his shaft. If it was possible, he was growing
even longer and wider under her ministering’s.

Suddenly, Quintin loomed over her. His
hands slid beneath her buttocks, lifting her to receive his hard
thrust. She caught her breath, her senses nearly overwhelmed with
the delicious torture of his fullness, loving that a part of him
was now deep within.

For a few moments, they luxuriated in
private pleasures that brought their bodies closer and closer to
the precipice of mutual ecstasy. Quintin seemed to know
instinctively the rhythm that would bring her the most pleasure.
His deep, long strokes made her body clench around him. His
lovemaking was rich and vital, and she eagerly surrendered to
it.

Stevie pulled his head down, needing to
feel the security of his lips. She could feel him grow bigger and
harder as he hammered against her. Her fingernails sank into his
shoulders as she was submerged under waves of rapture.

Quintin cried out, himself out of
control. He could feel her spasm around him, milking his pulsing
shaft as they came together. His love offering poured deep within
her. “God, you are incredible.” His words were barely audible under
his own inner trembling.

Each was a willing captive of the other
and both luxuriated in their shared release. Stevie pressed a kiss
against Quintin’s shoulder, her tongue savoring his salty flesh. “I
love you, Quintin Ward.” She felt warm, safe, secure and, for the
first time, complete.

His hand smoothed back her silken hair,
his legs wrapping hers in intimacy. “I love you more.”

Stevie cuddled closer, her breasts snug
against his chest, her arms wrapped around him. “When did it
happen? When did you know?”

“Well your perfume hooked me and I kept
imagining your long, gorgeous legs wrapped around me. But somewhere
between the pizza orgy and the chow mein –“ his hand traveled the
sensuous waist to hip curve to settle possessively around her right
buttock “—just around the bubble gum, I was absolutely sure.” The
teasing lightness in his voice turned serious. “To tell you the
truth, it was the strangest thing. I just wanted to be with you all
the time, see you every day. And after I did...I felt
wonderful…everything and everyone looked beautiful. Does that make
any sense?”

“Yes.” Her lips moved against his neck.
“I found myself thinking about you all the time,” she admitted,
“and that had never happened with anyone before. Despite all your
growling, you are a sensitive, passionate man.” She lifted her
head, the lambent sheen in her eyes glowed in the dusky light. “I
think I love your sensitivity more than anything else. A man that
can feel and express his emotions is a man to be
cherished.”

He shook his head and held her tight.
“No, you’re to be cherished and not just for one night. Stevie, I’m
not playing a game,” he warned, “with you, I find myself very
territorial. I am here for you and I have to know you’ll be there
for me.”

“Always.” She placed a tender kiss on
the corner of his mouth. “I can’t think of what it was like before
you. I don’t want a life without you.” She took a deep breath and
expressed the one fault in their perfect world. “About Rob
–“

“Shhh.” His fingers stilled her lips.
“He’s staying with his friend Jack until late Sunday. I’ll go home
tomorrow and pack a few things and leave your number with my
housekeeper in case of any emergencies.” Quintin moved her head
back into the curve of his neck. “This weekend is for us. You and
me. No one else.”

He reached down and snagged the hem of
the comforter, and with a quick tug, he enveloped them in downy
luxury. Basking in a delicious ache, they presently succumbed to
sleep.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee
stirred Stevie from sensual lethargy. Eyes closed, she stretched
like a satisfied kitten, content and serene. Her cheek snuggled
against the plump pillow, her nose inhaling Quintin’s clean,
masculine scent from the apricot cotton.

Reaching for him, Stevie found the bed
empty. She sat up, blinking the room into focus. “Quintin?” Her
voice revealed her anxiety.

“Stay right there,” he shouted. “Don’t
move a muscle or you’ll spoil my surprise.”

Laughing at her initial panic, she
propped the pillows behind her back and pulled the sheets into a
modest cover that shielded her nude form. “What are you up
to?”

The bedroom door was kicked open.
“Breakfast in bed.” Quintin grinned, displaying a white wicker bed
tray, its contents hidden beneath a large white linen napkin.
“While you were snoring away –“ his eyebrows jiggled in amusement
“—I was slaving over a hot oven to bring you the ultimate
indulgence.”

She looked curiously at the cranberry
velour robe that wrapped his virile length. “You’ve already been
home?”

He placed the tray across her legs and
sat on the edge of the bed. “I wanted to get that out of the way so
our time wouldn’t be interrupted.” His dark eyes feasted on her
sleepy beauty.

His hand splayed through the vibrant
russet waves, fingers gently straightening the tumbled curls. His
lips bestowed fourteen quick butter-soft kisses, one on each of the
freckles that spangled across her nose. “I hated to fall asleep
last night,” Quintin whispered, his beard-roughened cheek nuzzling
the smooth curve of her jaw. “I wanted to hold you, touch you, kiss
you. I was so afraid I was dreaming.”

“You weren’t dreaming.” Her arms
circled his neck, her lips warm and passionate as they enjoyed
reuniting with his mouth. “Was I dreaming this morning or did we
–“

His forefinger patted the tip of her
straight nose. “I needed something to get me motivated or you would
have never gotten this delectable breakfast.” With a flourish,
Quintin lifted the napkin covering. “Hot croissants, French-roast
coffee and mimosas, plus a stem of January jasmine from my
garden.

Stevie lifted the yellow flower,
inhaling the heady fragrance of the gelsemium. She smiled at him.
“I hadn’t realized you were such a gourmet.”

Quintin tucked the dainty sprig behind
her ear. “To be honest, I raided my own kitchen. My housekeeper
will find the bread box and the refrigerator a little lighter than
they were last night.” Shedding the robe, he moved around the bed
and slid beneath the covers.

They fed each other oven-warmed
croissants dripping with butter and piqued with raspberry jam. The
coffee was rich and mellow but it was the mimosas, orange juice
dignified with cognac and bubbled by champagne that kept them in
bed until late in the afternoon.

“There, Quint, now you know all about
Stephanie Brandt from birth to age thirty and a half.” She pressed
a kiss against his chest. “Quintin? Quint!” Coming up on one elbow,
she scrutinized his sleeping face. “Well really.” Stevie sniffed
and pretended annoyance. “The man asks for my life story and has
the nerve to fall asleep. Was it that boring?”

“I am not sleeping.” Eyes still closed,
his mouth curved into a smile. “I’m just resting my eyes. You could
never be a bore. And I certainly know better than to feed you
sushi, liver, Brussels sprouts, turnip greens and of course
anything called health food.” One brown eye opened and closed in a
quick wink. “See, I was listening.”

“Well, I want you to know that I do eat
quite healthy. Just had my yearly physical and my doctor said I was
in tip-top shape.”

He smiled again. “I can certainly vouch
for that.”

Stevie’s gaze wandered the lean length
of him, the thin top sheet molded to his naked body. Memories of
his lovemaking sent sweet sensations moving through her heart. A
fever began to burn. The backs of her fingernails brushed a
feathery massage across his torso; her fingers moved alternately up
and down and in spirals, making his hair-roughened flesh tingle in
response to her sensuous dallying.

“What
are
you doing?” Came his husky
inquiry.

“Nothing.” The reply was a soft
whisper.

“Hmmm…well keep on doing that—
nothing.”

The tip of her tongue outlined his
lips, making a quick dart inside. Her lips flowed down the
sensitive cord on his neck, across his chest to his left breast.
Stevie could hear Quintin’s heart pound in an erratic rhythm that
matched her own. She found the tough male nipple beneath the dark
mat of curls, and her tongue and teeth gently bedeviled the rubbery
tip. Her hands made an intimate survey of his chest, nails
harassing the bottom of his ribs. His long, husky moans of pleasure
only succeeded in fueling her own desire.

She ventured lower, her hair spreading
like a silk fan across his flat stomach. She found herself very
responsive, savoring each step that led to the perfect circle of
his navel, nuzzling it lightly with her lips and tongue. Her
teasing fingers walked an erotic path along the top of his sinewy
thighs before stroking the more sensitive flesh between.

His response was immediate, and she
marveled at the power she had over this dynamic man. Her fingertips
circled and teased the velvet flesh that quickly grew longer and
harder with her every touch. Stevie’s tongue replaced her fingers,
running up and down the pulsating shaft. At his deepening groan,
her lips sucked gently then a bit stronger. She felt his hands
press her head down, and she took him fully into her
mouth.

Her own appetite raging out of control,
Stevie lifted her head and moved her body on top of his. His thick
member slid hard and fast into her heated depths. Her satisfied
groan echoed and merged with Quintin’s. Straddling his hips, she
set a languid rhythm that unleashed wild, delicious sensations that
seemed to electrify her body.

Quintin’s pleasure was intense as his
dark eyes observed her flushed, euphoric features. His hands
stroked the sides of her body, fingers pressing into the firm flesh
of her buttocks to urge tighter contact. He raised his head
slightly, his lips fondling the creamy skin of her breasts, tugging
on the urgent rose-tipped peak. His mouth suckled with gentle
demands and he could feel her responding muscles clench around his
cock.

His hands moved lower, holding her fast
as he swelled inside her. He ground his member deep, slamming
inside her; then reveling in watching as her hips moved to match
his violent release. She cried out as pleasure shattered her body.
Collapsing on top of him, her long legs tangled intimately between
his.

“You are incredible.” Quintin’s voice
was thick with emotion. His kiss was soft and tender against her
mouth as he moved her trembling body into the curve of his. “I feel
as if I could go out and conquer the world.”

“Not me.” Stevie yawned in sleepy
satisfaction. Her tone was tinged with humor as she added, “These
non-pizza orgies are exhausting.”

Sunday morning’s brunch was shattered
by the urgent ring of the telephone. Stevie hesitated for a moment,
her eyes locking with Quintin’s before lifting the receiver. “Yes.”
Her head nodded in silent approval for him to refill her coffee
mug. “Hi, Mary, what’s up? No. You tell Doug to stay home and shake
off the flu. Maybe call the doctor for that new nasal medicine they
had in the paper. Really, it’s no problem. I’ll head over to the
studio and supervise. Bye.”

Quintin secured the phone. “Trouble?”
He settled on the bar stool next to hers and confiscated the last
corn muffin.

“Another of my staff has been
sidelined,” she told him, squinting at the oven clock. “Damn, I’m
afraid my job is intruding into our intimate weekend. I have to
cover a video shoot in half an hour.”

He leaned forward and kissed her. “No
problem. This will give me the opportunity to see you in
action.”

“I hope you’re up to the action,” came
her cryptic announcement.

The action, Quintin soon discovered as
he stared in amazement through the control booth’s glass viewing
window, was video’s latest art form. Four of Stevie’s clients were
recording three and four minute clips for MTV. He decided that the
whole effect was one of making a commercial of a movie of a person
clowning before a mirror. The heavy metal rocker’s seemed oddly
self-conscious about posing, and somehow they appeared to be
lip-syncing like a B-grade Japanese monster epic.

Strange things abounded in the taping.
Lots of guitars were smashed, fireworks exploded and rained, fog
machines and effect lighting made an eerie nightmare sequence. The
afternoon was an adventure into impoverished surrealism.