Sweet Obsession: Windy City Kink, Book 1 (16 page)

His hands roamed up and down her back, into her hair, tugging gently, then back down to her ass, bringing her up closer against him and their hips moved in unison against each other until Sasha was sure the air around them was going to catch on fire. She was so drunk on it, so lost to need and sensation, craving him with an intensity that scared her.

“Jack.” She pulled her mouth away from his, clutching onto his shoulders. “I can’t take any more…”

“S’okay, baby,” he mumbled, laying a trail of small kisses down the side of her neck. “We’ll slow down. I know, I know, it’s too much…” He sucked gently on her skin again. “Crazy.” He drew back and pushed her hair gently off her face, smiling at her. Mesmerized, she couldn’t take her eyes off his face. “You’re so sweet, Sasha. So sexy.”

His words made everything inside her liquefy into a slow warm drizzle right down to her core. Her legs had the strength of whipped cream, and she sagged against him.

“C’mon, let’s sit down again.” He drew her toward the couch and he sat, pulling her down on to his lap. They arranged themselves into a comfortable position, her legs up on the couch, his arms around her, and she pressed her burning face into the crook of his neck and held onto his shoulders. He stroked her everywhere, her waist, her hip, her thigh, kissing her hair, and she began to feel a little calmer, a little less overwhelmed.

Then he tipped her chin up and found her mouth with his again and her stomach did another slow roll of lust. He eased her back against the padded arm of the sofa, shifting them both so he was over her but not fully on top of her, his hand cupping her face as he kissed her. His lips plucked at hers in a series of short, soft kisses and then with a groan he opened his mouth over hers and kissed her deeper.

She moaned and slid her hand over his shoulders, as his tongue caressed hers. He used his teeth on her bottom lip, making her gasp, and her body arched up beneath him. They were as close as they could get, but the clothes between them frustrated her. She wanted to feel his skin, wanted to stroke it with her hands, wanted his skin against hers.

More than that, she wanted his hands on her bare skin. She wanted his mouth on her bare skin, everywhere. Heat suffused her and her hands wandered over his shoulders and back and biceps, feeling the thick muscle beneath the cotton Henley shirt he wore. Then she tugged at it until her fingertips found skin, hot sleek skin.

Jack growled a little and rubbed his rough cheek against hers, both of them panting, their hearts pounding together. “I want more, Sasha,” he murmured.

She stopped and closed her eyes. He went very still against her, lifting his head to gaze down at her face. She dragged her eyes open to meet his, and heat washed up into her cheeks. It was hard to hold his gaze, his eyes sexual, dominant and hungry.

“You don’t have to ask,” she whispered.

And then he nodded and she felt his understanding of what she meant as he lowered his mouth to hers again and kissed her one more time.

She didn’t want to be asked. She wanted to be taken.

Desire roared through her, hot and nearly uncontrollable and again she lifted her hips into his, his erection hard right where she needed it. He shifted more fully over her, now taking his weight on his elbows, hands in her hair, holding her head as he ravished her mouth with blistering kisses.

Their kisses had gone way past tentative exploration and gentle warmth to shockingly carnal and blazing hot. They shared the same breath, tasted each other’s hunger and need, tongues sliding, teeth nipping. Every nerve ending in her body jumped with delight and her pussy ached with need, settling insistently under her clit. Their bodies rubbed together.

He took control. She let him. It thrilled her. She flattened her palms against the hot skin of his back and lost herself in his kisses. Her chin began to throb with the continued abrasion of his rough stubble, but it was excitingly masculine. His mouth wandered again, over her cheek, her jaw, her neck, and she tilted her head up to allow him better access. He opened his mouth on her throat over her wildly fluttering pulse and gently sucked.

And then he shifted again, taking his weight on one elbow to free a hand that slid from her shoulder down, lower. Her breasts swelled in anticipation of his touch, and then his palm cupped her and gently squeezed. She whimpered.

“So soft,” he murmured, kissing her cheek, nuzzling her hair. “God, Sasha.”

He ran his hand up and down her torso, over her ribs, back up over her breast again. He took her mouth again and she moaned as his tongue slid between her teeth again, sleek and aggressive and her fingernails dug into his back. He fed on her mouth, insistent, ravenous, devouring her and she loved it. More. More. She needed more. Needed skin. Needed to fill that empty yearning at her core. She arched up into him again, blind and deaf and desperate.

His hand slipped beneath her sweater, and at the touch of his fingers on the bare skin of her stomach, electricity sparked on every nerve ending and she quivered. Her skin tingled and she made more soft noises of delight as he skimmed his hand over her ribs, then molded his palm over her breast again, now only the sheer fabric of her bra between them. He rubbed over her nipple, eliciting a delicious ache that arrowed to her pussy.

“Jack, oh God Jack.” Her head rolled against the leather of his couch. And then his hand drifted back down over her waist her hip, brushed her stomach and then slid between her legs to cup her pussy. She opened her legs and he held her there while he continued to eat at her mouth. She pulsed against his palm. Need tightened inside her. Pressure built. Oh God, she could come, just like this, there on the couch, fully clothed, just from him kissing her and touching her.

And then he removed his hand from between her legs and cupped her face again, so gently, lifting his mouth to rest his forehead against hers. They both fought for breath, Sasha’s heart galloping, her skin prickling everywhere, her pussy throbbing.

“Sasha.”

“Mmm.”

“You are so sweet.”

She just moved her head a tiny bit.

“This is all pretty fast,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp. “You okay?”

Okay? “No,” she whispered. “I’m not okay. I’m dying.”

She felt his smile as he kissed her temple. “Me too.”

And then he sat up, arranging her so that she lay cradled in one of his arms, her legs across his lap. He touched her face with his other hand. She stared into his face, those dark molten eyes, his mouth wet from their kisses. Her entire body pulsed with need and now, confusion.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered. “Why are you stopping?”

“I’m just slowing things down.”

“I don’t want to slow down.”

He smiled. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. But right now…slowing down.”

“But…”

“Have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

Her heart kicked against her ribs at his invitation. “I can’t.”

His expression didn’t change. “Another date? You’re not still seeing Eric, are you?”

“No.” Her mouth wanted to smile. “I haven’t seen him in weeks.” He’d called but she’d turned him down. She still wasn’t sure why. “I have an event to attend. This weekend is the Garden Show, and Friday night is the preview gala. I’m one of the exhibitors at the show, so I get an invitation to the party.”

“I see. I guess that means you’re busy all weekend.”

“Yeah, pretty much.” And she needed to be at that show to hand out business cards and pamphlets and show off her work.

An idea popped into her head, but she didn’t know why on earth she was even considering it. Had these past few weeks of working together, seeing each other so often, lulled her into thinking that she could be safe with him on a date? She took a breath. “I can bring a guest to the party.”

He smiled. “Oh yeah?”

She nodded slowly. “Would you like to come? It’s at Navy Pier, from six to nine-thirty. There’s food and drinks and some live entertainment. You get to see the exhibits before the show opens on Saturday, and I think they have models walking around wearing flowers or something.”

His eyebrows lifted. “I’m in.”

They shared a smile. “Okay.”

Was she crazy naïve to be inviting him to go to the gala with her? They’d sort of become friends the last few weeks, even with the spine-tingling, toe-curling sexual awareness she felt around him. The dreams she’d been having didn’t help, sex dreams about him pinning her down, holding her wrists, pulling her hair, his hand on her ass… God.

Liquid heat pooled low down inside her and her breath stuttered. Hell. There was no denying it. She wanted that to happen too. Almost every night she dreamed of him making her come and woke up frustrated and alone, with only her own fingers to ease the ache.

Going out with him might not be as safe as she thought.

“Why are you looking all smug?” Kevin asked when she got home later that evening.

“Smug?”

“Yeah. You have a smug little smile on your face.”

“I do not.”

“Whatever. Where were you for dinner?”

“I stayed at Jack’s and had sushi with him.”

“Ah.”

“Now what?” She set her hands on her hips, standing in the living room.

“Nothing.”

“Well, you might as well know he’s coming with me to the Garden Show preview party tomorrow night.”

He lowered his chin and gave her a raised-eyebrows look. “Oh really.”

“He asked me out for dinner, but I have the party to go to.”

Kevin just nodded, looking thoughtful.

“Go ahead, tell me I’m crazy,” she said with a sigh. “I’m wondering it myself.”

“You’re not crazy. I’m just concerned about you.”

“Why? I’m not stupid. And it’s not like I’ve had a string of bad relationships.”

“No,” he agreed. “You mostly never seem to give a shit about any of the guys you date.”

She choked on a laugh. “That’s not true. Well. Maybe it is, a little. I guess that was always what the problem was. They just didn’t do it for me.”

“Didn’t float your boat.”

She grinned. “Yeah. Didn’t ring my bell.”

“Blow your skirt up.”

“Don’t try to talk me out of it.”

“Would I do that?”

She pursed her lips. “My brothers would. And my father. If I ever was stupid enough to even tell them that I was seeing Jack again. Which I most definitely will not do.”

“So…can’t be much of a future for you two, if you can’t tell your family about it.”

She stared at him. She wasn’t thinking about the future, she’d been thinking about right now, in Jack’s arms. She sure hadn’t thought any farther ahead than their date tomorrow night, and she sure hadn’t thought about another relationship with Jack. She didn’t even want to voice her thoughts about what was happening between them. That Jack wanted her. That he still had feelings for her. That she was someone worth pursuing even after all this time. She knew it would sound silly and wishful and yes, probably naïve as hell, that she believed that.

“Maybe we should have a little talk,” Kevin said.

She laughed. “Let me guess. Birds do it. Bees do it.”

“Even educated fleas do it. But I’m not talking about falling in love. Or even sex.”

“Aw, you don’t want to tell me about the birds and bees?”

“More like whips and chains,” he muttered. He patted the couch beside him. “Come sit down here.”

Chapter Twelve

Jack arrived at Sasha’s duplex apartment on Friday evening via the car service he kept on retainer. As he walked up the sidewalk to her front door, he tugged at his necktie, something he detested, although he was getting more used to it. He preferred wearing comfortable clothes and even went to the office in jeans if he didn’t have meetings with clients, but he’d soon learned the importance of appearance in making business deals. If he was meeting VPs and CEOs of big companies dressed in suits, he’d found things went better if he looked like one of them.

So a trip to Joseph Dean Custom Suiting had yielded him several expensive suits, but it had been worth it to spend a bit of time there getting measured and having the suits made to fit perfectly. They’d also helped him pick out shirts and ties and shoes. Then he’d gone to The Gap and bought ten pairs of khaki pants and a bunch of shirts.

Tonight though, he’d learned this gala was a fundraiser for some Chicago charities. Many of Chicago’s supposed A-list crowd would be there, and since he was Sasha’s date he once again was going to look like he fit in.

She opened the door, illuminated in golden light from the foyer entrance. Warmth from inside drifted out into the chilly evening air. “Come in,” she said, stepping back.

He took in her appearance, staring at her bare feet with scarlet painted toenails, tracking up slender bare legs to the hem of her dress just above her knees. He smiled a little at the bare feet and the contrast with the elegant dress she wore. He didn’t know much about designer clothes, but he was starting to be able to recognize quality and she was wearing something pretty damn fine.

The black lace dress appeared to be sheer, but had to be lined with something that matched her skin. It wrapped around her slender torso in layers, hugging her waist and hips all the way down to just above her knees in a narrow skirt. The V-neck was deep enough to reveal a hint of creamy cleavage.