Fool for Love: Fooling Around\Nobody's Fool\Fools Rush In (8 page)

She'd known from his kiss that he had a devil's tongue, and now he was using it in a way that was probably illegal in some states. Seconds ago she'd wanted an orgasm more than anything. Now she wanted to experience this tongue bath for about a hundred years and
then
enjoy her orgasm. She clenched her hands and tightened her jaw, trying to
rein in the climax that surged nearer with every swipe and flutter of his tongue.

Faintly the yap of a coyote penetrated the fog of sensuality surrounding her. The eager barking, rising in pitch, seemed to time itself to the rapid movement of his tongue, until she could hold back no longer. Her cries joined the yipping of the coyotes as her hips lifted and her body quaked under the onslaught of a violent orgasm.

He stayed right there as she drifted back to reality. He moved only to kiss her trembling inner thighs and her dew-drenched curls as he murmured soft words she couldn't make out because her heartbeat still thudded in her ears like bongos. At last he gently eased her back to the seat, all the while stroking her hips and thighs, her quivering tummy and her sensitive nipples.

She swore she could feel each individual nerve ending, could trace their pathways just beneath her moist skin. No man had ever put her so in touch with her body, from the roots of her hair to the sensitive space between each toe. When she'd debated the pros and cons of sex with Andre, she hadn't factored in complete ecstasy.

He kissed his way up the length of her body until he cupped her face in both hands. “I think you liked that.” Male pride echoed in his voice.

She thought he deserved to feel proud of himself. “I loved that. I think you're more French than you imagine.”

His laugh was strained. “Lena…” He put a bucketful of yearning into those two syllables.

It didn't take a genius to understand what he
wanted. “I'll be happy to return the favor,” she murmured, reaching for his belt buckle.

He shook his head. “That's not what I want. Oh, I'd love you to do that sometime, but right now, right now I need…I need desperately to be inside you.”

Her heartbeat had slowed, but it quickly started racing again. She'd had an important reason for not taking this step, but damned if she could think of it. Only one immediate problem came to mind. “But I didn't bring…I don't have…”

“I do.”

A
NDRE HELD HIS BREATH
.
A bed would have been wonderful, but right now he didn't have the time to spare. He was fairly sure that if he didn't sink into Lena's hot, slick vagina in the next couple of minutes, he'd lose what was left of his mind.

Begging wasn't cool. He liked to be in more control than that. But he did it, anyway. “Please.”

“It's…it's too soon.”

Her protest sounded weak enough that he knew she was barely convinced by her own argument. “I understand what you're saying,” he murmured, nibbling at her delicious mouth. “But I figure we passed that objection sometime during your climax.”

“Mmm.” She responded to his kiss, parting her lips and sighing.

“I want to make you come again, the old-fashioned way.” He felt her resistance ebbing, but he needed to get rid of it for good. “I want to be deep inside you, stroking, feeling you tighten around me.”

“Mmm.” Her breathing grew shallow.

He used more ammunition, painting a picture of future delight. “Think of me filling you, rubbing against every sensitive spot, bringing you nearer to—”

“Uh-huh.”

He wasn't dumb enough to ask for clarification. In no time he'd pulled the condom from his pocket and shucked his pants and boxers. She was moving, too, repositioning herself with one foot braced on the side window and one on the floor. He still wasn't sure how they'd fit—he'd grown taller since the last time he'd tried this at seventeen.

She tried to help, lifting her hips while he maneuvered, but he couldn't figure out where to put his knees. He swore softly. They couldn't go outside where there was nothing but prickly pear cactus and mounds of dirt.

“Here.” With amazing agility, she switched her position, kneeling on the seat with her bottom facing him. “Like this.”

He sucked in a breath. If that wouldn't make his package happy, nothing would. Before she could change her mind, he knelt behind her and cupped the smooth curve of her backside in both hands. Then he urged her knees a little farther apart and homed right in. Sliding into her moist channel was pure ecstasy.

Wanting a repeat of that sensation, he pulled back and plunged forward again…and again, unable to resist the temptation of that glorious friction down the entire length of his penis. Then he forced himself to take shorter strokes and pay more attention to what was going on with her.

He'd promised her another orgasm, and he planned to deliver on that promise. Because she was panting and making little whimpering noises, he expected success. He changed his angle slightly and her panting grew heavier.

He needed to talk to her, but his vocal chords seemed welded in place by the heat they were generating in the back seat. He'd hoped to have sex with her, but in his wildest dreams he'd never imagined this scenario.

He swallowed and croaked out one word. “Good?”

“Yes!” She undulated against him in a move that reminded him of their belly-dancing escapade. “More!”

More he could do. He picked up the rhythm. The firm slap of his thighs against hers mixed with her lilting cries and his heavy groans. He'd never heard sweeter music in his life.

He didn't have to ask—he knew she was nearly there from the hitch in her breathing and the way her muscles tightened. He stroked faster, wanting her to come even more than he wanted his own cherished orgasm.

And she did, loudly and spectacularly as he continued to pump. At last he was free to seek relief from the incredible pressure building in his groin. By the time he erupted, he was blind and deaf with lust. The force of his climax nearly knocked him from the seat, and he clung to Lena to keep from falling.

Gasping for breath, he clutched her slick body and closed his eyes, reveling in the sense of connection, of peace, of rightness. Something significant had just happened here. He was positive of that. With luck, she believed that, too.

 

S
O MUCH FOR DIGNITY
, Lena thought as she and Andre slowly untangled themselves. She was grateful
for the darkness, which allowed them some privacy to regroup. In the heat of the moment, she'd abandoned every last inhibition, but now her natural modesty came creeping back. She picked up her long skirt from the floor and draped it over her.

Andre glanced her way. “Please don't tell me you're sorry.”

“No.” She owed him an honest reply. “I don't regret anything.” Maybe she should, but she didn't.

“Good. I would hate that.”

“Although I'm a little embarrassed that I got so carried away, that I acted so…” She searched for the word to describe her behavior.

“Liberated?” He leaned toward her and ran a finger over her lower lip.

She
had
felt liberated by the rush of passion, and some of that adrenaline was still hanging around, begging to be put to good use. Just the subtle touch of his finger against her lip was stirring her up again.

“Let's go back to my place,” he murmured, “where there's a king-sized bed and a supply of condoms.”

She couldn't think of anything she'd rather do. “But I told myself I wouldn't go this far on our first date.” So much for self-control.

“I'm sure you did, but now that we have, we might as well enjoy ourselves in comfort,” he said with a soft smile.

“You have a point.” Then again, she was ready to agree that the Earth was square and made of cheddar.

“Great.” He lifted his hips and pulled up his boxers and pants. “Let's get out of here.”

She groped for her clothes, found her black thong and shimmied into it. She'd just finished slipping her skirt over her hips when she realized he was already dressed and watching her finish up. “No fair. You had a head start.”

“I'm not complaining. I love watching you, although seeing you undress would be even better.”

She found her top but was still minus her black bra. “Is that a suggestion for later?” She wondered if she had the nerve to strip for him.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I'll light some candles.”

The prospect made her more addled than ever. Where was that damned bra, anyway?

“Looking for this?” Her bra dangled from his fingertips.

“So there it is.” She was so glad she'd worn her laciest one, a delicate underwire that closed in front. “I think I can manage.” She reached for it.

He pulled it back. “Let me.”

“Um, okay.” The sexual excitement that had been nibbling slowly at her restraint took an aggressive bite that left her aching. Just like that she was once again trembling in the grip of desire.

“Lift your arms over your head.” He drew in a sharp breath as she followed his instructions. “Even in the dark, I can tell how amazing your breasts are. I can hardly wait to see you in candlelight.”

“Then you'd better finish dressing me.” Her voice came out low and husky. “So I can have something to take off later.”

“Right.” He slipped the straps over her wrists and drew the cups down. But instead of fastening the bra
in place, he started playing, rubbing the underwire up and down over her nipples.

And like clockwork, her body tightened, gearing up for another orgasm. “Andre…”

“I can't help it.” He abandoned the bra completely and cupped her breasts in both hands. “I love how your breathing changes when I stroke your nipples.” He brushed his thumbs back and forth. “You're so incredibly responsive.”

She moaned softly. “Maybe too responsive.”

“No such thing.” Dipping his head, he captured her nipple between his teeth.

The sharp delight of it made her gasp and sent a ringing message to the pleasure center between her legs.

He raked his teeth gently over the tip of her breast before circling it with his tongue. “I love making you react,” he whispered against her damp skin. Then he opened his mouth over her breast and began to suck in a slow, easy rhythm.

She was his puppet. When he slipped his hand under her skirt, she opened her thighs, wanting whatever he offered. In moments he'd worked his way around the thong and pushed two fingers deep. And what he offered was heaven, created by his clever mouth and talented fingers.

She gave herself up to pure sensation, and he coaxed her to the brink so quickly it was embarrassing. Arching against his fingers, she clutched his head to her breast and cried out as tremors shook her.

With his fingers still buried deep, he kissed his way back to her mouth. “Want more?” he asked as
he nipped at her lower lip and continued to caress her with those magic fingers. His touch demonstrated clearly that where there was one more climax there could be two…or three…. All she had to do was say the word.

And
yes
seemed the only word worth saying. Dimly she realized that he had complete control of the situation. He'd just proven he could reduce her to a mass of quivering needs in no time at all.

She felt the need to take back some of that control, difficult though it would be. She'd spent four years learning to be more assertive. She hated to think all that progress could be erased by a series of orgasms, outstanding though they'd been.

“Not here.” Her voice was thick with passion. She eased away from him.

“My place, then.”

“Yes.” She fumbled a little getting her bra fastened, but she accomplished it. Then she pulled her top over her head.

“Want me to drive?”

She was tempted to let him. Feeling positively boneless, she would love to collapse against the seat and be swept away to his lair. But that would be too passive.

“I'll drive,” she said. “Meet you up front.” Somehow she managed to get out of the back seat and behind the steering wheel. Fortunately she'd left the keys in the ignition, because fitting that key into a narrow slot would have been beyond her abilities. She adjusted her position on the seat and tried to calm down.

But when she pulled her seat belt over and fas
tened it, she remembered his comment about Bondage Light, and she was a basket case again.

Gripping the steering wheel, she took a deep breath.

“I really will drive,” he said.

“I'm fine.”

“You remember how to get back to my apartment?”

She was lucky to remember her name, but if she concentrated very hard, she'd be able to find his apartment again. She had a great motivation to find his apartment. That's where the condoms were. “I remember.”

“All righty, then. If you're sure.”

“I'll be okay.” She cleared the huskiness from her throat. “I'm just…”

“I know. Me, too.” He held his hand out. “See that? I'm shaking.”

“So you're not in any better shape to drive than I am.”

“Probably not, but driving is what guys do, no matter what's going on. I'm conditioned to drive under stress.”

She wasn't about to let him get away with that. “So am I.” She started the car. “Just don't touch me, and I'll make it.”

“Can I talk to you?” Laughter rippled through his question.

“Depends on the subject.” She put the car in gear and headed back down the winding road.

“Okay, picnics.”

“Picnics?”

“How do you stand on the subject of picnics?”

All she could think of was the company picnic last summer, which had been such a dating disaster. “What kind?”

“The kind where you leave in the morning with a basket of goodies and some wine, drive up to the White Mountains, find a secluded little spot well away from the road and spread out a blanket.”

“Oh. That kind.” It didn't take a genius to know what he had in mind for the blanket. Thinking of that, she nearly missed her turn. “Scratch that subject.”

“You don't like picnics?” He sounded disappointed.

“I didn't say that.” She pressed her thighs together, trying to settle herself down. “I just said we couldn't talk about them right now, okay?”

“Ah. Then I'll take that as a yes, that you're willing to go on one tomorrow.”

“Yes. Now talk about something else.” She knew what the picnic date meant. Any couple who headed from the first date into the second date with only a few hours in between was probably about to have a relationship. She needed to tell him about the work situation they'd both face on Monday. But she was worried about how he'd interpret the fact that she'd known all along and hadn't confided in him.

“How do you stand on the subject of a cozy little B and B?” he asked.

Yes, definitely a relationship. “I don't think we can talk about that, either.”

“I'm going to assume that whatever topic you reject turns you on.”

“Good assumption.”

“So if I made a reservation at a B and B for tomorrow night, there's an excellent chance you'd go there with me after the picnic.”

“I'd say so.” The prospect of an entire weekend with Andre shimmered in front of her, a weekend in which work was the furthest thing from either of their minds. Once she'd spent that much time with him, they'd have created a bond that might see them through any problems with her promotion.

Telling him about everything now would change his attitude toward her—that much she could be sure of. He couldn't possibly make love to her all weekend without also remembering that on Monday she'd be in charge of his performance review at work. They needed this time to establish their connection, which logically shouldn't have anything to do with their jobs.

Exactly. They were two people who happened to work for the same company. By a curious set of events, on Monday she'd be in a position to oversee his production. They shouldn't allow themselves to be ruled by that.

She was convinced that after a weekend together, the news wouldn't be such a big deal. By Monday they'd like each other a lot, maybe even have some leanings toward the
L
word, and a silly work complication wouldn't matter. So it was settled. She'd tell him Sunday night, while they were cuddling…somewhere.