License to Thrill (23 page)

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Authors: Lori Wilde

Tags: #FIC027020

BOOK: License to Thrill
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The idea excited her so much that she turned and raced into the adjoining bathroom with the intention of splashing her face with cold water to cool her ardor. She was startled to find a Jacuzzi tub big enough to hold an entire wedding party.

Plush, white matching his and her bathrobes were laid out on the mauve marble steps. More scented candles burned in gold and silver candle holders, scenting the air with Jasmine perfume. Another basket sat on the elaborate dressing table. This one was filled with toiletries, toothbrushes, toothpaste, and…
ulp
…were those Trojans?

A luxurious heat swept through her body along with the dreaminess of the champagne lingering in her bloodstream and she had an almost irresistible urge to strip off her clothes, settle right into that tub, and call for Mason to come join her.

Her yen for sin scared the bejesus out of her and Charlee back-pedaled from the bathroom.

Fast.

Mason was hanging up the phone. A frown creased his brow. “I couldn’t get hold of anyone.”

“What’s up?” she asked nonchalantly, doing her damnedest to quell the erotic thoughts circulating through her brain with absolutely no success.

“According to the housekeeper my parents went to Paris for the weekend.”

“What about your brother?”

“Hunter wasn’t home and when I called his cell phone I got his voice mail. I left the number here. I’m hoping he’ll check his messages and call back soon.”

Her treacherous body throbbed, agreeing completely with the pleasure center of her brain.

Yeah, yeah, go for it.

Standing so close to him in this stylish suite, hearing him speak in that forceful businessman tone, smelling the tangy aroma of his cologne made Charlee’s knees loosen.

She was terrified her lips might join her knees in rubberdom and she would say something truly frightening, like, “Let’s get it on, you long-legged, brown-eyed, handsome, matinee-idol-smiling, beard-stubble-sporting stud you.”

Oh, she was weak and stupid.

And she was more turned on than she’d ever been in her entire life.

High-caliber folly, rolling the dice and taking a chance that she could seduce him and then just walk away with her heart in check.

Charlee realized then she was breathing heavier than a greyhound after a race.

“You’re panting,” he said.

“No, no, I’m not,” she denied.

“Still upset over the spider?”

“I already forgot about that.”

“Charlee, you sound like you just ran up six flights of stairs. If you’re feeling faint or something let me know. The last thing I want is for you to pass out and crack your head on the floor.”

“Well, that’s a sexy thought.
Not.”

“Sexy?” He gave her an odd look.

Oh, crap! Why had she said that? She didn’t want him knowing she was thinking sexy thoughts. Not when she was still so conflicted about said sexy thoughts.

“Did I say sexy? Not sexy. I didn’t mean sexy,” she babbled.

“How much champagne did you have?” Mason narrowed his eyes.

She held up two fingers. He glanced at his watch. “Two glasses in under forty-five minutes. You’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” she insisted, leaning in closer to get a better whiff of his Mason smell. “Just feeling a little…”

“Amorous?” he suggested with a raised eyebrow when she ran a finger over his collar.

“I was going to say horny, but yeah, okay, amorous will do.”

“You’re letting this honeymoon stuff go to your head, sweetheart,” he said gently. “And although I find you sexy as hell, we both know this is neither the time nor the place to lose control.”

“We’re in the honeymoon suite of the Beverly Hills Grand Piazza. We have no idea where to start searching for our grandparents. And besides we can’t go anywhere because the media and a Twilight Studios assistant are virtually camped outside our door, not to mention those two goons in the Malibu across the street.”

She paused and studied his face. Stone wall. Nada. Zip. He was giving her nothing to go on. She took a deep breath and went on.

“We don’t have any money or a car and we have no idea when your brother will call. Name a better time and place.”

“I can’t take advantage of you.” He disentangled her arms from around his neck and stepped away. “I won’t. You’ve had too much to drink.”

“Such a gentleman.” She clicked her tongue.

“You wouldn’t think I was such a gentleman if you knew the thoughts spinning through my head, lady,” he growled. “Some of them are downright illegal.”

“Oooh. I like the sound of that.”

“I can’t do this,” he repeated, although the distinct bulge in his pants argued otherwise.

“Open that bottle of champagne and catch up with me.” She waved a hand at the bucket of Dom Perignon and lost her balance. “Oops.”

He reached out and grabbed her before she fell and she smiled up at him.

“You did that on purpose,” he accused.

“Who? Me?” She blinked innocently.

“Charlee,” he said. “Please don’t give me the full court press. I’m only human.”

The look in his eyes sent her temperature blasting into the danger zone. Did she dare force the issue? Did she dare seduce him?

Was she brave enough to face her fears right here, right now? Stab the vampire of her past rotten romantic experiences squarely in the heart and live to tell the tale?

Was she really as tough as she pretended or deep down inside, when push came to shove, was she all talk?

She leaned in close and kissed him, but because she was tipsy and wearing Violet’s ridiculous stiletto ankle straps, her lips bounced off his mouth and skidded headlong into a dimple.

God, she was woefully inept at this sultry seductress stuff.

Luckily, Mason turned his cheek, removing the gouge of his dimple and presenting her with a second opportunity to capture his mouth.

He kissed her back, grabbing her shoulders in his hands and holding her steady on her shoes.

Eagerly, she ironed her body against his, reveling in the hard line of his muscles and bones.

Okay, this wasn’t so scary. No big deal. Just hormones, right? Hormones and moving body parts and making each other feel good.

But a few minutes later, Mason pulled away, his breathing hot and spiky, a “what just happened” expression on his face. His hair was a sexy, disheveled mess, his lips damp with her moisture.

“That’s enough, Charlee. This can’t go any further.”

Seeze who ?
She blinked at him.

“I can’t. I won’t do this.”

“Okay.” She shrugged and stepped away from him. “Suit yourself.”

Then she slowly started undoing the buttons on her blouse as she turned and headed for the bathroom.

“What are you doing?” He sounded panicky.

“Taking matters in hand. If you catch my drift,” she called to him over her shoulder and dropped Violet’s black blouse onto the tiled floor.

With a flick of her thumb, she unsnapped her bra and tossed it beside the blouse.

She shot a quick glance toward the mirror. In the reflection she could see into the bedroom. She could also see that Mason was craning his neck, getting a good view of her backside.

She bent at the waist to turn on the Jacuzzi and then wriggled her hips as she inched the skirt down over her thighs. She heard him inhale sharply and then cough as if he’d swallowed his tongue.

Pretending that she wasn’t watching him watching her, she used her hair as a curtain to shield her face from him and sat down on the edge of the marble tub wearing nothing but thong panties and the scarlet high heels.

Her heart thumped against her chest gone tight with mounting anticipation. The whirlpool gurgled and churned and a fine mist rose to enshroud her.

With trembling fingers, she reached down to unbuckle the ankle straps. She heard footsteps and her pulse accelerated.

She thought she heard heavy breathing as well but she couldn’t be certain over the noise of the hot tub.

Cocking her head to one side until a sheaf of hair slanted forward, she peeped cautiously through the opening and peered out at him with a coy look.

Mason stood in the bathroom doorway. His face had reddened and his chest rose and fell with hard, jerky movements.

Most definitely heavy breathing.

And he wasn’t the only one.

The way his gaze caressed her skin made her tingle with excitement. To think that she was responsible for that wild, lusty gleam in his eyes sent goose bumps bivouacking along her forearms.

She kicked off the stilettos. Then, with her head down and blood racing, shimmied out of her panties.

He made a noise of pure masculine arousal.

Charlee slid over the edge of the tub and into the hot, effervescent water. She leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes tight but she was too tense to relax, too darned aware of Mason’s blatant gaze roving over her body.

“That’s not such a good idea,” he said hoarsely.

“What’s not?”

“Getting into the hot tub when you’ve been drinking.” He clicked his tongue.

“I didn’t drink that much.”

“You drank enough to make you strip naked in front of me.”

“If you hadn’t been peeking ‘round the corner you wouldn’t have seen me naked.”

She kept her eyes tightly closed. One look at him would send her scrambling pell-mell for that monogrammed bathrobe.

“You wanted me to see you naked. Otherwise you would have shut the door behind you.”

“So how does that make you feel?”

“Angry.”

“Angry?” She opened one eye at the testy note in his voice.

“Angry for not being able to resist you.”

Oh my, oh my, oh my.

His fist grabbed for the front of his shirt and he pulled hard, sending buttons pinging off the tile floor. Charlee gasped and sat up straight, her eyes rounding in surprise at the feral, untamed look on his face.

Gone was the polished, controlled businessman. In his place stood a chest-thumping caveman, stripped naked of everything except the bare essentials.

Man. Woman. Biology.

Her pulse hammered.

He heaved his shirt flying and then his fingers went to his zipper.

She sucked in her breath as she watched the zipper slide down.

In one smooth move, he dropped his pants and a soft sound of pleasure popped from her lips. Ah, a silk boxer man. It figured.

His gaze was hot on her face and she felt her skin flush. She knew he was watching her breasts bob jauntily atop the water.

And when the silk boxers followed the pants and she got her first good, up close and personal view of him, Charlee just about choked.

Here stood a broad-shouldered, blue-blooded Texas businessman with chest hairs the color of dark Belgian chocolate and a very serious gleam in his eyes.

The sight of him left her nearly speechless.

“W-w-well,” she stammered before getting hold of herself. “Are you going to strut like a proud turkey all day or shake your tail feathers and get in here with me?”

“Just a minute.”

In two long-legged strides, he marched over to the dressing table, yanked the cellophane wrapper off the gift basket, plucked a condom from the plethora of products, tore the packet open, and rolled the Day-Glo green rubber onto his burgeoning erection.

“Now that’s a picture.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he promised and strutted back over to the tub.

“Do those things work in water?” She was on the pill and she would bet anything he didn’t have a sexually transmittable disease but still, no sense taking unnecessary chances.

“Don’t know. Never used one in the Jacuzzi.”

“Me either.”

“So we’re hot tub virgins together.”

She liked the sound of that.

Mason slid down in the bubbling liquid and he looked across the tub at her, his breathing labored and his gaze turbulent.

The water churned and pulsated around them. She’d never been naked in a hot tub with a man before and that erotic reality along with the powerful water jets massaging and caressing sensitive areas of her body stoked her arousal.

“Come here,” Mason said in a tone so husky it scraped her ears like sandpaper. He stared her right in the eyes and crooked a finger.

And just like that, every bit of courage she possessed drained from her body.

She shook her head.

“Don’t make me come over there,” he said, his voice a silky threat.

Her body trembled as if her temperature were a hundred and ten.

“You started this, now I’m finishing it.” He reached under the water, found her foot, and trolled her toward him. Her head went under briefly and she came up sputtering, her hair fanning out around her. He hauled her closer to him until she floated above his knees.

“Is drowning me all part of your master plan?”

“I warned you.”

She brushed the water from her eyelashes and looked at him. He rewarded her with his dimpled grin and she just about came undone.

He had one hand still clamped tight around her ankle and his other hand was
…oh, my.

Charlee’s eyes rolled back in her head at the sheer pleasure of what he was doing.

His fingertips lightly stroked her bottom in a tormenting technique that left her breathless, bewildered, and craving more.

“What’s this?” he asked, his fingers finding the scar from her long-ago spider bite.

“Origins of my black widow terror.”

He made a sympathetic noise and his touch lightened. He inched her closer toward him, slowly separating her legs with his knees while his eyes never left her face. He tilted his head and lightly ran his tongue across her parted lips. Licking first her top lip and then her bottom. He tasted salty yet sweet.

Letting go of her ankle, he reached up his hand to cradle her cheek as he kissed her and then she giggled.

“What’s so funny?” he growled.

“You. Me. Everything.”

“I’m glad I amuse you.”

“Amuse me some more,” she murmured.

She was in his lap at this point, her legs splayed on either side of his waist, her bottom bobbing against him.

“I love your breasts,” he broke the kiss to murmur.

He scooted her bottom onto his knees and lowered his head to gently bite one of the stiff, pink nipples jutting hungrily forward.

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