Lucky Fall (3 page)

He shook his head. “I have no desire to be like everyone else, especially when it concerns you.”

“Do you always come on so strong?”

He pulled out the empty barstool next to him and gestured for me to sit. As soon as I perched myself on it, he pulled it closer to him with his foot, so we were only inches apart. I couldn’t believe how swift his movements were. His legs had to be very muscular to glide the stool over with my weight on it. He leaned closer to me, dropping his voice to a husky whisper, “I know what I want and I don’t like to waste time. The only question is, what do you want?”

This was getting too dangerous. Talking to him was like stepping into quicksand—and I knew my feet were in danger of sinking deeper with every phrase he uttered.

“I just wanted to thank you. I need to be on my way.” I was losing my nerve. He was far too charming and salacious for the likes of me.

He clasped my hand. “Have a celebratory drink with me, at least.”

“What are we celebrating?” I asked, staring at my trembling hands.

He laughed. “Your birthday, of course. I would rather celebrate with a traditional birthday spanking, but this will do…for now.” The last two words were stretched out and followed by a delicious grin.

I swallowed, trying not to grimace.

He tilted my chin so I was staring at him. “Why aren’t you happy it’s your birthday, Julianne?” Sexy, strong, and perceptive…damn.

“Did you see my cake? It had forty candles on it!”

He smirked. “Sweetheart, I think everyone within a twenty-mile radius could see it. I’m sure the kitchen had fire extinguishers on standby.”

“Very funny. Birthdays are not as special when you reach a certain age.”

“It’s just a number, and you don’t look forty.”

“That’s because I’m forty-three. My friend, Libby, was trying to be somewhat merciful and stopped at forty candles.”

He motioned to the bartender and ordered a glass of wine I was pretty sure cost more than my outfit. “You make forty-three look incredible.”

I wondered how he was so quick with every line, as if he had a script for our evening—one that no one had bothered to give me. He was as smooth as the wine he ordered for me.

“Even if you are not, I am happy to celebrate any day when such loveliness came into the world.”

“That’s sweet, Casanova, but how old are you?” If I was a betting woman, I would have said mid-twenties, but surely no man that age could afford a tailored Armani suit and an outrageously expensive bottle of Chablis.

“I’m twenty-eight. Now can we stop talking about numbers? Math was never my strong suit.”

I took a sip of the glass of heaven he’d ordered, savoring the nuances of earth and fruit. “This has a very delicate flavor.”

“Much like yourself, I imagine.”

Damn…did he have an answer for everything?

“I believe in speaking my mind, but I assure you my goal in not to make you uncomfortable.”

“What is your goal?”

“To make you come.”

“Come where?”

He laughed in low, husky voice that made me quiver. “It was a complete sentence.”

I bit my lower lip, willing my heart to stop its crazy double beat. “You’re very cocky.”

He reached for my hand in a gentle, but firm hold. “Why don’t you come and find out…not in that order, of course.”

I almost choked the wine, which was far too expensive to waste. “I think I should go.”

“What are your reservations? Is it the man who was making puppy dog eyes at you just now?”

It surprised me that he was observant enough to have noticed Jeff. “He’s just a friend.”

He sighed, narrowing his eyes and tightening his jaw. “It’s apparent he wants more with you. Do you not see that?”

“Why do you care?”

He paused for a moment, sipping his drink. The golden liquid left a sheen on his lips and I had an urgent desire to lick it off.

“I’m having trouble articulating my emotions. It’s a new feeling for me.”

“What’s that?”

“I suppose it’s a combination of jealousy and sympathy.”

“Sympathy?” I was equally as surprised by the jealousy, but I decided to keep that one to myself.

“I don’t want him to have you, but I feel sorry for him. You see, I know how the poor fellow feels, but I have no interest in sharing you.” His openness stunned me. I wasn’t expecting him to be so candid, but then again everything he did was a surprise.

“Do you usually do this?”

His eyes were so bright they appeared to be twinkling, and his smile was boyish, reminding me of his age.

“Do what? Enjoy a conversation with a beautiful woman?”

“Choose a woman out of the blue to sleep with?”

“No, I don’t. I doubt you’ll believe me, but I don’t lie. Life doesn’t always give you the best circumstances. When you see something you want, you should seize it. You fell into my arms and since that moment, all I’ve been thinking about is how well we would fit. Maybe it’s not traditional, but I’ve never been much for convention.”

“It was an accident.”

“I don’t believe in accidents. Either way, it was the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” He finished his drink and gestured for another. The bartender was quick to provide a fresh glass. He put his hand on my knee, rubbing it with his palm. “Julianne Brenan, I’m mesmerized by you. I think that surprises you, but I’m not sure why. You’re sexy, intelligent and interesting.”

It was funny, I could have used the same adjectives to describe him.

“I want you in my bed tonight so I can explore every inch of you and taste your delicate flavor. If you’re not interested, I completely understand, although I think you’d only be lying to yourself.” The huskiness of his voice combined with that British accent was doing some crazy things to my body.

“Why is that? Because your offer is so tempting?” The question came out with more sarcasm than I’d meant.

“You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t tempted.”

Damn, he was right.

He stood, taking out a keycard then sliding it over to me. “I’m in the penthouse suite. You’ll need this to access the floor on the elevator. I’m not going to try to talk you into this anymore. It’s your decision.” He leaned in closer to me, whispering in my ear, “I want to fall into you, Julianne.” He pressed his lips against my jaw, causing an instant flush of heat to radiate through my body, followed by dampness between my legs.

He turned to the bartender. “Jenny, please put all the lady’s drinks on my tab.”

I watched him walk away with the saunter of a confident man. I had read novels about men like him. Hell, I was an active member of book clubs that sought out such tales. He belonged to that special breed of men who enjoyed their partner’s pleasure as much as their own. The kind of man who was sexually skilled in the subtleties of a woman’s body. Just the kind of man I wanted to fall into.

Chapter Two

I stood in front of his hotel room twenty minutes later feeling the artificial bravery two more glasses of wine were able to produce. I was still questioning the wisdom of my decision. He could be a murderer and chop me into little pieces. Then again, would a murderer have the penthouse suite in the most extravagant hotel in New York? Besides, I had pepper spray in my purse, and I’d taken self-defense lessons. Granted, it was three years ago, but I still remembered some things. I knew I was just trying to talk myself out of this, though. Sex created emotional complications. Then again, he was a businessman in town for a short while. I’d never see him again, and when I was alone in my bedroom on cold nights, I could hold onto this memory. I needed a good one to sustain me. It had been so long. I knocked on the door with hesitation, and he opened it before I was finished, causing me to hit his hard, naked chest.

He was wearing nothing but black boxer briefs. His body was long, lean and sculpted. It took my breath away.

“I’m glad you came.”

I took a deep breath, willing every ounce of confidence I possessed to emerge. Luckily, the wine had helped. “I haven’t yet, but you promised to remedy that.”

His laughter rumbled deeply as he stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter. “I love that you can make me laugh, Julianne.”

I walked past him, trying desperately not to leer at his tall, muscular frame and the sexy tribal tattoo that graced his right shoulder, curling over his biceps. It was simple—black swirling waves, or possibly flames. I knew if I looked too closely, I’d want to examine each line and taste the pattern with my tongue.

I moved my gaze around the dimly lit, luxurious suite instead, doing my best not to drool. It was larger than my apartment and had a massive balcony overlooking Broadway. The floors were a rich, dark wood, interspersed with soft oriental rugs. The comforting pale-green walls were broken up by impressive modern paintings and crystal chandeliers that joined old-world charm with modern design. The combination of eclectic, designer chic was comfortable but regal, too.

I didn’t have time to take it all in, though, because Victor’s hands were everywhere, like a sculpture assessing a raw lump of clay. He pulled me against his chest, running soft, demanding kisses down my neck as he rubbed every peak and valley I had. He brushed his fingers under my dress, skimming my thighs, leaving me wanting more. Victor released my hair from its clip and it fell down my back and across my shoulders. He threaded his hands through it, gently at first then he clutched it and pulled it in a way that was hard enough to be slightly painful, but seductive at the same time. I leaned my head back, and he suckled my earlobe against those soft lips.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered each word slowly so that the heat of his breath felt like warm waves of pleasure crashing through me.

“Me too,” I replied, unable to articulate any further.

Victor trailed his fingers under the straps of my dress, slowly caressing me, until he slipped it off. He followed the same path, tracing the outline of my bra and releasing my breasts from the lacy material. He walked around me then, sliding his hand around my back as he circled, letting out a low whistle. The way he assessed my body should have made me uncomfortable, but the blazing desire in his eyes was too captivating to allow any self-doubt to penetrate.

“You are beautiful, Julianne. And tonight, you are mine.” His husky voice, commanding statement, and the pure perfection of him was almost too much.

I had always thought dominant men were interesting characters in books, but not so much in the real world. I was wrong. I wanted him to own me in every way…at least for now.

His hands massaged my breasts, causing them to pebble more than I’d thought possible, as his thumbs swiped across my nipple. “Tell me you are mine. I like to hear it.”

“I am yours, Victor.”

“Thank you,” he said, in a simple whisper. He leaned in, running his tongue against each breast.

I put my arms around his neck, trying to remain steady on my feet. His hands roamed down my backside until they reached the lace of my panties. He ran them over that area repeatedly, causing me to become even wetter.

“When was the last time you had an orgasm?” he asked in a muffled voice, still suckling my breasts.

“Last night,” I replied, completely breathless.

“Not self-inflicted.”

His powers of observation should be bottled for sale. “I can’t remember.” There was no reason for any pretense. I wanted to be honest with him. I wanted him to make good on his promises.

“I’m going to give you as many as you’ll let me.”

Did he mean tonight? Surely, I would be good for one, maybe two, but many implied more than that.

“Okay,” I said, knowing it was a stupid response. I had no idea how to be sexy anymore. He was disarming all my senses.

“I’m going to kiss you. To taste you. Don’t reciprocate, understand?”

I nodded, not sure why he wouldn’t want me to kiss him back. I couldn’t think of the reasons when his soft lips brushed mine. It was gentle, barely a touch. His hands fell to his sides and all he did was touch his lips to mine. The act was even more sensual because of that. His intoxicating, clean masculine scent drifted over me. I closed my eyes, relishing the small touch, wanting more. He complied, increasing the force, crushing into me as he ran his tongue over my mouth. I wanted to open for him, but he led our dance—I had no intention of symbolically stepping on his feet. Victor took my lower lip and sucked it, running his tongue across it. I moaned, and he immediately understood my need. He wrapped his arms around me so I was touching his hard body and coaxed my mouth open. His tongue sought out mine, and the nonverbal invitation to engage him was enough. I tasted the heady sweetness of him combined with the smoky, earthy flavor of the scotch he’d drunk.

He pushed his erection against me, solid and long. I was surprised how he could just keep kissing me like this when he was so hard. His willpower was much stronger than mine.

“Victor, please.”

“Tell me what you want, Julianne,” he demanded, speaking the words against my mouth.

“I want you.”

He laughed in my mouth, the reverberations traveling down my body. “It’s torment for me, too. Sweet torture, but torture nonetheless and I’m no sadist.”

He swooped down suddenly, placing a strong arm under my knee and another around my shoulder then lifting me off the carpet. He walked to the bedroom, staring down at me with those luminous eyes full of intensity. Surely we would collide into a wall. Victor walked with assurance though, as if his body was attuned to the surroundings, carrying me without exerting any effort or even watching where he was going. He sat me on edge of the soft, king-size bed in the master bedroom.

I went to take off my panties, he stopped me.

“I insist on unwrapping you.” He took off the garment, managing to trail his fingers down my thighs in the process.

Victor bent down on his knees before me. I took the opportunity to run my hands through his thick, dark hair, even silkier than the sheets I sat on. He caressed my legs, flipping off each heel and kissing the balls of my feet before easing them back to the floor. I expected him to enter me then but he didn’t. Instead, he just touched me, over and over, starting at my ankles and running his hands up to my hips then back down again. I couldn’t describe it, except to say it was pleasurable agony, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to end or go on forever. I leaned back on my elbows.