Insatiable (23 page)

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Authors: Cari Quinn

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BOOK: Insatiable
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Shawn was far from inexperienced. She‟d seen—and heard—more evidence of that over the years than she‟d ever wanted. But his dazed expression as his gaze traveled from her red toenails to her fishnet stockings on up to the thigh rubbing suggestively against the settee had her releasing a delighted chuckle. “Like?”

Shawn gulped in a breath, his fingers plucking at the knot in his tie. “Good Christ.”

Though she would‟ve happily played this game all night, there were other stops on their agenda. She didn‟t want to wear out her welcome here either. Already more than one person had shot her a look that made her inner puritan want to put on khakis and a pullover sweater.

“Come with.” She lowered her leg and extended her hand. He seized it at once and rose, almost stumbling in his haste to follow her out into the night.

She swung their joined hands as they walked away from the hotel. The soft breeze caressed her skin, but she sent up a quick prayer of thanks that it was merely warm and not hot. Had the temperature been any higher, her little plan wouldn‟t have worked.

Or perhaps she just would‟ve melted into a puddle, as wet as the trickle of moisture now slipping down her inner thigh.

120

Cari Quinn

“Where are we going? The View‟s that way. God, what do you have on under that coat?”

Rachel smiled. “Are you okay? You sound funny.” He sounded, she thought gleefully, as if he might need CPR at any moment. And his handsome, normally unruffled features were contorted into an expression of sheer agony.

“You‟re walking funny too.” Leaning closer, she sunk her teeth into his earlobe.

She could do this. Really, they were just words. “I bet your cock‟s hard, isn‟t it?”

And oh, yeah, those words were so worth the stunned glance he directed her way. “You‟re not my Rachel.”

Emotion spread through her, swamping her racing heart. Could there be a sweeter phrase than
my Rachel
? She didn‟t think so.

“Who do you want me to be?” As they started walking again, she linked her arm around his waist. “Tabitha? Veronica?” She slid the tip of her tongue into the hollow of his ear. “Whatever name gets you off, that‟s who I‟ll be.”

“Uh, I‟ve been getting off just fine when you were Rachel.”

She had to grin. “God, you make me happy.”

Shawn turned his head, his green eyes flashing as bright as jewels in the early twilight. “Is that why you‟re throwing around dirty words and wearing—”

She tsked-tsked him as he reached for her coat. “Trust me, it‟s really important you don‟t lift that hem,” she whispered with a throaty laugh.

“You‟re not…” He took a breath, tried again. “Naked under there?”

She flicked open the second to last button of her coat, her gaze telling him to find out for himself. That he shielded her with his body before doing the surreptitious cavity search was one more check in his column. She just hadn‟t counted on her legs nearly giving way when he pressed his fingers against her very warm, very aroused flesh.

“Rachel.” His groan rippled over her hair.

She drew his hand out from under her coat and guided his drenched finger into her mouth. His eyes darkened until his pupils seemed to obliterate every speck of green. “I tried this thing today. Supposedly, eating pineapple sweetens…your juices.

You‟ll have to tell me if it worked, since I don‟t know the difference.”

“I‟ll tell you.” His breath rasped over her lips before he roughly slicked his tongue over hers. She swallowed his strangled sound of pleasure as his hand again dove for her coat. “Sweet. You‟re so damned sweet. I need you, Rach.”

She bit his tongue playfully. “Soon. We‟re almost there.” Realizing she might have unleashed a tiger she couldn‟t restrain, she gripped his hand and eased back.

“We‟re in public. Remember?” She smiled pointedly at a teenager on a skateboard who nearly took a header off the curb as he glimpsed her miles of leg. “Lots and lots of people around.”

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Rather than answer, he yanked her up the sidewalk. “Where are we going?

Museum? Bathroom stall? Screw it, I‟d even take you behind a bush right about now.”

“Well, see, it involves heights. I know you don‟t like them much, but—” She stopped, jerking a thumb toward the towering apartment building in front of them.

“Here we are.”

His gaze snapped to hers, all but sparking with electricity. “You rented an apartment?”

“No, silly.” She laughed, using the lapels of his jacket to bring his face down to hers. “This building is as known for its amenities as its apartments. One, in particular. I happened to hear about it on TV last night while you were sleeping off our interlude in the hot tub.” Her tongue rimmed her lips in one slow lick. “Maybe I‟ll just give you a hint.”

She withdrew the iPod from her coat pocket, making sure the right song was cued. Then she pressed the earbud against his ear and hit Play.

His exhale was almost comical. “Rachel.”

“So you‟ve decided to stick with my name then.” With a satisfied smile, she dropped the iPod back into her pocket. “I‟m flattered.”

He drove his hand into her hair, likely ruining the arrangement of her carefully tousled curls. “Where‟s this elevator?”

She grinned. “Allow me to show you.”

* * *

While Rachel chatted up the doorman of the Benedict Arms Apartments, waving her glossy red nails for emphasis, Shawn shook his head in amused wonder.

So much for thinking she didn‟t know how to use the wealth she‟d been born into. As usual, he‟d vastly underestimated his resourceful best friend. His lover. The woman with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his crazy, unpredictable life.

A few moments later, she crooked her finger for him to follow her to a stairwell. As soon as the door clunked shut behind them, he spun her into his arms and filled his hands with the warm globes of her bare butt.

“Behave.” She smacked his hands away. “We‟re here to see the penthouse.”

Her faintly schoolmarmish tone had his already amazingly hard cock twitching. “The penthouse?”

“Yes. Even our examination of the place required an extensive credit check.

But what do you know? I passed.” She gave him a flirty grin. “The attached elevator is private and only connects to that apartment. Exclusive access. No one will disturb us.”

Cocking an eyebrow at the extent to which she‟d gone for some nookie, he hung back to watch the roll of her hips as she climbed the short flight of stairs. “Damn, baby, you have a pretty ass.”

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Cari Quinn

She flipped her hair back over one shoulder as she motioned him forward, rather impatiently. “I have other pretty things that I may let you see
if
you get a move on. We have a dinner date, remember?”

His loud groan was the first of the many he‟d uttered in the last fifteen minutes that wasn‟t sexually motivated. Even if his lover had morphed into a tawdry, dirty-talking sex kitten seemingly in the span of a few minutes, she still wouldn‟t abide being late.

Such was the irony of his existence.

Hands on her hips, she faced him. “We‟re going to dinner regardless.” She flipped that one button open again, along with the one beneath, giving him a quick, unfettered look at smooth pink skin. God, she‟d shaved her pussy too, leaving just a hint of dark hair to tease him. “Whether or not we make each other very happy to be alive first is your choice.”

“You‟re such a sexy witch.” Joining her on the landing, he gripped her chin and caught her mouth in a crushing kiss. “I love when you get rough with me.”

Laughing, she broke free. “Come along,” Rachel called, sailing up the hall.

“Time‟s wasting.”

He trailed her around the corner, his jaw falling open as he glimpsed her posing for him. This must‟ve been how she‟d felt to turn around to find him mostly naked and handcuffed to her bed. Heat spiraled through him, setting his muscles quaking as it radiated outward. He started opening buttons as he walked toward her, cursing as his fingers fumbled.

She was too much. Too beautiful, too tempting. He‟d never felt anything resembling a desire like this, so powerful it leeched every thought from his mind but torrid vignettes. Of her legs twisting around his hips. Of her sweet, wet pussy taking him deep. Of his cock driving into her, over and over, until her screams bounced off the walls like whips lashing skin.

She was framed in the open doorway of the elevator, her coat still loosely belted, that come-hither smile firmly in place. He didn‟t grasp what was special about this particular elevator until he crossed the threshold. A flick of her thumb whisked the doors shut, trapping them in the slowly rising column of steel and glass.

Excitement, the darkest, most dangerous kind, slashed like knives through his gut. “And you called me naughty.”

“Where do I think I learned this sort of behavior?” Rachel circled him, lightly hitting his sides with the strap of her purse. “I never did things like this before you.”

“I know. I‟d have remembered if you‟d mentioned having sex in a glass elevator.” Though it cost him, Shawn did nothing to help her as she tossed aside the purse to spread open his shirt.

“Sex?” She splayed her fingers over his torso, her every movement mirrored in the glass that surrounded them. The lights of New York winked just beyond, Insatiable

123

obscured by a thin fog. Then the fog wasn‟t outside but inside his head, hazing his mind as her nails scraped the flat ridge of his nipples. “This won‟t be as tame as sex.” Ribbons of lust coiled around him, winding tighter and tighter as her husky laughter sounded near his ear. “I know you hate the word screw, so we won‟t use that one. Got any other ideas?”

“This is your show.” He was already panting and she‟d barely touched him.

“Call it whatever you want.”

“You‟re right.” She pulled his sleeves over his shoulders and down his arms.

He thought she was just stripping him until the fabric tightened around his wrists.

“My show, my rules.” Her lips parted in a proprietary smile as she stopped in front of him. Her gaze started at his cock, fully erect against his stomach, traveling upward until her sooty eyes met his. “I want you to fuck me. Here, for anyone to watch.”

Her hand shot out, slamming against the control panel to stop their ascent.

She quickly shed her coat, and then she was before him in all her naked golden glory, save for her dark fishnet stockings and lacy white garter belt, black heels, and wildly curling brown hair.

Not all golden. Her lips looked as juicy red as the night he‟d fed her strawberries, while her nipples reddened under his feral gaze, and the glistening pink folds between her legs peeked from beneath that narrow whorl of dark hair.

“Goddamn, you‟re gorgeous. Do you have any clue what I want to do to you?”

His voice sounded foreign, channeled from the same place he got the strength to remain bound by her flimsy restraints when he wanted—
needed
—to ravage.

To claim.

“Tell me.” She stepped closer and ran her palms up his belly until her fingernails scraped his nipples. “I won‟t blush this time.”

He didn‟t censor his thoughts as she resumed circling him, using any word, any description that entered his mind while her scent—both the hot coconut oil one he‟d forever associate with her and her own, much more personal aroma—twined silk cords around his throat.

As promised, she didn‟t blush. Nor did she speak. But her eyes, as dark and deep as the night sky, revealed the extent of her longing as she knelt in front of him to undo his belt. Those wicked eyes flickered as she tugged the belt free of its loops.

“Now should I tell you what I intend to do to you?”

Rachel wound the length of black leather around her wrist, sending the buckle clanking as she went to work on his pants. She peeled off his trousers and briefs, her smile widening as his erection sprung free, thick and hard and already spurting cream. “Maybe I‟ll just show you. Would you prefer that?”

She didn‟t wait for his answer. Her mouth enveloped the head of his straining cock in one satiny motion, a heartbeat before she twisted his belt around the base of his shaft and pulled. His raw groan filled the elevator, drowning out the tinny sound of the Aerosmith song he hadn‟t realized still played in the pocket of her coat.

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Cari Quinn

“More?” She drew her mouth away, wetting her lips as she studied his reaction. Through his half-slitted eyes, he saw her felinely sensual smile.

Repeating her phrase of the other night, he grated, “Do your worst.”

When she tightened the belt, drawing the buckle over the now purpling crown of his cock, explosions blasted off in his head, setting off a relentless pounding he scarcely recognized as his own heartbeat in his ears. At once, she let off on the pressure, leaving the belt dangling against the muscles bunching and jumping in his thigh as she snaked her tongue under his shaft to lick his balls. Then she cradled them in her mouth, doing things with rolls of her tongue he couldn‟t make out through the kaleidoscope of color obliterating his vision.

She arched up, and her teeth nipped the rock-hard muscles in his abdomen.

Pinching flesh, pulling skin. “I want you to beg.” Her voice whipped through the heavy pants filling the elevator. His, hers. He couldn‟t tell the difference anymore.

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