Nobody Does It Better (16 page)

Now back in her room, she regarded his door. He'd gone in to change into jeans, and then they were supposed to meet and grab a bite in the hotel restaurant. But
Paris
wasn't really interested in fruits and vegetables. She had other nourishment in mind.

She hesitated, then forged ahead and knocked. When he opened the door, she just stared, with absolutely no idea what to say. Her fantasies of how the night would pan out hadn't included much dialogue.

"Hey," he said, leaning against the door frame, "we've got to stop meeting like this."

He had unbuttoned his shirt, and it hung open and untucked, revealing his taut chest muscles and a smattering of silky hair, all of which
Paris
found extremely distracting. "Um," she said, and then congratulated herself on her brilliant repartee.

Amusement lit across his face, and that was all it took to spark her vocabulary. "You could help," she said, "instead of standing there laughing at me."

"Help?"

"Yes, help. This isn't easy." She gestured between them. "You, me."

"What am I supposed to be helping you with?"

"I've decided to seduce you. I'd appreciate a little cooperation, please."

"Oh," he said, awareness rising in his voice. "In that case, let's make sure we get this right Come on in." He stepped back so she could come into his room. His bed was rumpled, the sheets mangled on top of the mattress, and for some reason that made her feel better. On top of everything else involved in a seduction, she didn't have to worry about messing up the bedspread.

She sat down in the room's one chair, and he immediately laughed.

"What?" she asked, and when he looked at her, moving his gaze up and down, she realized she was sitting with her feet flat on the floor, knees together, her hands folded in her lap.

"You're not exactly posed for seduction."

Paris
tried to loosen up, intentionally lifting one leg and crossing it over the other. "I'm still a little iffy on this seduction thing."

She watched his slow grin. "You're a cruel woman, Paris. Get my hopes up and then just dash them to the around." He was on the bed, legs stretched out in front of him. Now he leaned back against the headboard, resting his head in his hands.

Hardly the picture of a man whose hopes for a wild night in bed had just been dashed. More like a fox who just realized he'd accidentally been locked in the chicken coop.

A very sexy, very smug fox.

She stood up. It was easier to focus when she was standing. "The thing is, if we do this … this … thing, it's not because there's anything permanent there." She stopped pacing in front of the bed and looked down at Devin, still reclining on the bed. So far he didn't look too concerned about her parameters.

"I've got a plan," she added, "for my career and my life."

"With those boring men you date?"

"What? Oh, you overheard me and Rachel. They're not boring. They're nice men. Doctors. Accountants. Investment bankers. Stable. Dependable."

He eased off the bed and stood up, just a footstep away from her, his six inches of height over her giving him the advantage. "But you're in here with me now," he whispered, as he took her hand and raised it to his lips.

Thinking was a problem. Coherent thoughts were dropping by the wayside. "Yes, well. That's the point. Now isn't later." She took a shaky breath. "It's just chemistry between us. It has to be. But there's no point in torturing ourselves for three weeks. We're consenting adults. We'll just have a little fun. An affair. A fling."

His lips grazed her palm. "I'm nice. I'm dependable. Respectable."

She made a soft noise in her throat. "Maybe. But you're … it's not the…" She took a deep breath. "If we do this, it's temporary. Just on the book tour. I just want to be clear on this. Up-front."

"
Paris
?"

"Mmm?"

"You're here with me now." He pulled her roughly to him, his mouth immediately capturing hers.

Slowly he released his claim on her lips, but one hand remained firm around her waist, pulling her close and pressing her into him, sending her mind reeling. His mouth played over her neck, and she threw her head back to let his lips dance on her flesh.

She pulled away from his kisses. "I want us to have an understanding, Devin," she murmured.

"There's something you should know."

She couldn't tell if he was teasing or not. "What?"

"I raised the money to buy the pub trading commodities."

Okay, he was teasing.
She chuckled. First he adopts all of Alexander's traits, then he makes up characteristics of her not-really-boring dates for himself. The man was certainly willing to cover all aspects of her fantasies. But that didn't change the facts. "Are we clear? It's temporary?"

"
Paris
."

"Yes?"

He shook his head. "Never mind. I think we're clear." His gaze held her fast, the boiling desire she saw there enough to make her knees weak. "We're changing the ground rules from no sex, ever, to wild, hot, torrid, passionate sex as often as possible over the next three weeks. Is that right?"

Her body throbbed simply from his words. His eyes promised unimaginable pleasure, and she nodded agreement, unable to speak.

"Good." He kissed her fingertips. "But there's something I should warn you about."

Her chest constricted, and she tried to steady her breathing despite the way his lips brushed the tender tips of her fingers. She managed only a whisper. "What?"

His fingers grazed her cheekbone and dropped to caress her lips. "I intend to try and change your mind." He leaned in and she felt a whisper of a kiss on her earlobe. "I just thought it was fair to warn you, in the interest of full disclosure."

"Devin, I—"

He pulled her to him. His kiss, powerful and possessive, cut off speech and coherent thought until nothing was left in her except a wild hunger. She undulated against him, soaking up his heat, tasting the luxury of his hard, lean body.

With a boldness that surprised her, she reached down between their bodies and cradled his hardness in her palm. He shuddered under her touch, and his reaction sent her own passion soaring to new heights. She wanted him to shudder, to cry out in ecstasy, to find absolute pleasure in her touch.

His hands stroked her legs, and her skin began to burn up under her clothes. Her stomach tightened. A soft moan escaped her lips. She tilted her head back, needing to see passion reflected in his eyes.

"Devin," she whispered, "make love to me."

Uttering a deep, guttural groan, he pulled her with him to the bed, managing somehow to end up on top of her as they sprawled across the cool sheets.

"Close your eyes," he said, and when she did, he kissed each eyelid, a feather kiss rendered by firm and demanding lips. The rest of her body tingled in anticipation.

A flurry of sensation above her belt as a fingertip trailed lightly over her waist. The slightest of touches with the deepest of promises. When he started to peel off her clothes, she raised her hips in accommodation, until she was naked from the waist down.

"Can I open my eyes?"

He brushed a kiss across her lips. "No."

His lips burned a path down her neck to the collar of her blouse. His breath burned hot against her body. Her thin shirt suddenly seemed thick and cumbersome as a winter coat. "Just rip it
off,"
she begged, when his fingers fumbled at the buttons.

"You're sure?"

"Please," she cried, her voice rasping from the need to feel nothing against her skin except him.

One tug and she heard the satisfying rip, felt the cool rush of air on her skin. Devin's hands cupped her breasts. When his tongue teased over her nipple, she pulled her legs together, tight, struggling to keep control. She reached up for him, but he pulled away, catching her hands.

"Not yet."

With one motion, he turned her over on her stomach, pulling her free of her shirt. She stayed still as he nestled himself against her, his arousal pressing into the back of her thigh. His tongue traced patterns on the back of her neck, sending bursts of ecstasy racing through her.

While his lips roamed her back and shoulders, his hand slipped down, caressing her bottom. She held her breath as he traced a path between her buttocks.

"Open your legs for me."

She moaned and spread her legs wider, wanting him to cool the burning inside her. His fingers slid inside her, and she cried out, pushing herself down harder, wanting him deeper. He was like a fire that was spreading through her being. A fire she needed and wanted. So much she thought she might die if he did anything so foolish as stop making love to her.

"Devin, please."

* * *

It took all his willpower not to explode when she said his name. She intoxicated him. No woman had ever had such an effect on him.

Agony. Not being in her was such sweet torture, but he wanted to savor these moments, to draw out her pleasure for as long as possible.

"Devin, I…"

"Trust me." He grabbed her hips and rolled her over, then balanced himself above her, awed by her response to him, so honest and intense. Her face was flushed, her nipples tight. When she opened her eyes and smiled, shy and trusting and hungry all at the same time, he knew that she would be his. She had to be. He couldn't bear the thought of anyone else touching her.

Her eyes raked over him, stopping where he strained against the slacks he still wore.

"No fair," she whispered.

He struggled out of his clothes, and lowered himself on her, needing to feel her body against his skin. His erection nudged between her soft thighs, and he fought not to lose himself.

He kissed her lips for the briefest of moments, then slid his kisses down her chest to her navel, where his tongue flicked over her bare flesh, hungry for the taste of her. He heard her small moan of surprise when she realized he wasn't stopping there.

"Devin…"

Heady from the desire rippling in her voice, he nibbled and licked and sucked her soft skin, concentrating his attention on the tender inside of her thigh. Her breathing was coming faster and faster, her little moans and sighs music to him.

He moved his hand down to cup her sex, then slipped his finger inside her, wanting to know how hot she was, how ready. For him. With his thumb, he stroked her sensitive nub and she writhed against his hand, calling out his name.

Desperate to taste her, he let his tongue take over where his hand left off, first flickering across her most intimate place, then deep and demanding. Her fingers curled in her hair, and he knew she had lost herself as he was lost.

Her body stiffened, tightened under him, and when she cried out in release, she pulled him up to her. He kissed her savagely, deep and hard, until she slid her mouth from his and breathed one word against his lips.

"Now."

Already he was on the edge, and that one soft word almost hurled him over. He moved away from her only long enough to sheath himself, then balanced over her, taking one sweet moment to memorize the passion in her eyes, the way her lips moved in silent urging. She opened her legs wider for him, the most compelling invitation he'd ever received. He entered her then in one hard thrust, trading control and reason for the silky, hot passion.

Nothing he'd imagined compared with the reality of being inside her. Her body clamped around him, milking him with the tiny spasms of a woman on the precipice.

Her hands rasped over his back, her fingernails razing across his skin, the added sensation increasing his need for her. She cupped his rear in her soft hands and pushed, urging him deeper inside her.

Devin needed no encouragement, he thrust deeper, harder, wilder, grinding against her. She matched his every move, raising her hips up to meet his. When her body tightened around him, he knew they wouldn't last much longer.

She cried out his name, her spasms demanding he join her. He drove into her one final time, then felt his body explode, his own release coming all too soon and not soon enough.

He collapsed next to her, and she snuggled against him, her back against his chest. He draped an arm over her and played lazily with her breast, feeling a possessiveness toward her body that surely lacked political correctness. He felt like a caveman. He'd claimed her. She was his.

"We won't get much sleep if you do that," she said, as he pulled and teased her nipple.

"Sleep is an overrated activity."

She responded eloquently, scooting her hips back so that her rear pressed softly against his groin. Already he was hard again, and he rubbed himself against her, letting the passion build slowly.

His hand stroked her belly. He heard her whispered plea, "Again."

He'd never have thought himself capable, but her sweet demand spurred his passion, and soon he'd flipped her on her back. This time their coupling was rough and wild, passionate and needy, lightning-fast and totally satisfying.

She snuggled against him, her features soft, a dreamy look in her eyes.