The Best Bride (81 page)

But his body didn't cooperate. Need filled him, making it difficult to think. He tried to remind himself that everything about this relationship—including the so-called relationship itself—was a lie.

But his feelings were real, and that fact scared him to death.

“Don't look at me like that,” he said, his voice low and gruff.

“I can't help it.”

“It would be a mistake to get involved.”

“We already are.”

“I'm not.”

She placed her hand on his chest. “Liar.”

“Dammit, Hannah, I can't do this.”

She didn't move. She continued to study his face, her sexy mouth curved up in a slight smile.

“You've got fifteen seconds to get out of here or I won't be responsible for my actions,” he growled.

“I'm shaking,” she said. “But it's not from fear.”

He swore, grabbed her upper arms and hauled her against him. “Why the hell can't I resist you?” he asked.

“Because I don't want you to. Because—”

She never got the rest of it out. He silenced her with a kiss.

H
annah had been terrified. She'd never deliberately tried to seduce a man before. What if she'd been making a horrible mistake? What if he really didn't want her?

But at the first brush of his mouth against hers, she knew her fears were unfounded. He wanted her. He needed her. He trembled with desire.

His lips were warm, his kiss hot and hungry. Before, he had been gentle, almost tentative in his caress. This time, he devoured her, tracing her mouth with his tongue, then plunging inside. Their actions mimicked the act of love to follow. She clung to him, wanting to experience everything with him. Despite the lies, despite who and what he was, she trusted him. Perhaps more than she'd ever trusted anyone in her life.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and waist, pulling her closer. Her breasts flattened against his chest. He was strong and hard to her soft curves. Their legs
brushed, the erotic sound of jeans against jeans filling the quiet.

She rested her hands on his shoulders, then moved them higher to his blond hair. The sleek, silky strands teased her fingertips. He angled his head and kissed her deeper. His tongue circled hers, sending liquid delight pouring through her body. Her thighs were on fire, as if she'd just run ten miles. Her arms were weak, her stomach tight with anticipation.

He broke the kiss. “I've got to get control,” he muttered, his breathing harsh.

She stared at his handsome face, at the strong cheekbones, the vivid blue eyes, darker now as his pupils dilated with passion.

“Are you that close to being out of control?” she asked.

“You have no idea.”

The concept pleased her. She still didn't understand why Nick was doing all this. Why he had come with her, why he was helping her, why he cared even a little. But she was glad. It was only for a short time and it was only pretend, but it was more than she'd ever had in her life.

Wanting to be sure he really was a man on the edge, she drew one hand over his shoulder and down his chest. His muscles rippled visibly, and when she reached the waistband of his jeans, he flinched, then swore.

Pure, perfect power filled her. She'd never been sure about her femininity. She was too tall, too physically strong, too determined and stubborn to be what she considered a typical female. Men either ignored her or tried to show her how macho they were. Nick seemed willing to accept her for who she was.

“You're going to make me cry again,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because you really want me.”

He brushed his thumb lightly over her mouth. “What the hell do you think all this has been about?”

“I don't know. I could never decide what you were thinking.”

He drew her close and kissed her neck, then raised his head and drew her earlobe into his mouth. He sucked, then bit down gently on the tender skin. “Now do you know?” he asked.

“I'm starting to figure it out.”

“Good.”

He took both her hands in his and lifted them to his mouth. After kissing her knuckles, he backed out of the kitchen, still kissing her fingers. She barely noticed as they passed through the living room and into the bedroom.

He turned her hands palms up and brushed his thumbs over the sensitive skin. When the tingling shot up to her elbows, he bent his head and pressed his mouth to the base of her right thumb. He nibbled the fleshy spot, rose slightly and blew on the damp spot. She shivered in response.

He moved his mouth to her wrist and kissed the pulse point, went higher still to the sweet spot at the bend of her elbow.

Her breasts swelled, her knees shook. He held her other hand and touched his mouth to her arm. She could have easily stepped away. She could have stopped him, or demanded more, or any number of things. Yet he held her immobile with sensual magic.

No one had ever made love to her like this. While Shawn hadn't been the first man in her life, he'd only been the second. She hadn't been involved with anyone else since. She understood the workings of her body; she had found pleasure from time to time. The pattern was simple. Kissing, breast fondling, then “the act.” No one had ever made her breathless simply by pressing his lips to her arm.

Nick raised his head and moved higher, nuzzling her neck, moving along her shoulder, then slipping down her other arm. He'd continued to circle her palm with his thumb, causing the small area of skin to heat and become sensitized. When he touched his tongue to the spot, she wanted to cry out. Her head arched back and every muscle in her body tightened with need. Her breathing came in short, rapid pants.

She wanted to grab him and demand that he get on with it. She couldn't take much more of this. She wanted to beg him never to stop.

He straightened and stared into her eyes. “Sweet Hannah.”

Then he buried his fingers in her hair. She closed her eyes and absorbed the sensation. He tugged on the strands, drawing her head back. She went with the movement, arching her torso upward.

Sharp, exquisite fire cut through her right breast. She gasped and looked down. He held her erect nipple in his teeth. The layers of her shirt and bra, not to mention his gentleness, protected her from anything close to pain. Hot breath added to the sensation. She began to shake.

She grasped his shoulders, as much to hold on as to hold him in place. He moved his teeth back and forth, withdrew and repeated the procedure on the other breast.

His hands moved down her back, urging her to offer herself to him. She arched forward, needing more, wondering how it was possible to be so aroused and still have on all her clothing.

As if he'd read her mind, he slipped his hands lower to her waist, then moved them around to the front. He unfastened the button on her jeans and drew the zipper down. He tugged the jeans over her hips. She parted her legs slightly to help.

He abandoned her breasts and she nearly cried out in frustration. He knelt in front of her and pulled her jeans to her ankles, then pushed up her T-shirt and pressed his mouth to her belly.

The feel of his damp mouth on bare skin was her first indication that her panties had been removed with her jeans. She vaguely thought about protesting, but accepted that it was foolish at this point. Then he dipped his tongue into her belly button and she didn't really care what he did.

Between her legs, need pulsed in time with her heartbeat. She could feel the heat there, the desire making her body swell in anticipation. She couldn't focus on a single rational thought. All that mattered was what she felt, what he was doing to her and where they would soon go together.

He cupped her bare derriere and squeezed. She grabbed his shoulders to hold on, then moved one hand to stroke his head. He urged her legs apart. She tried to comply, but the jeans around her ankles restricted her. She was trapped and at his mercy. She prayed her surrender would be as wonderful as she imagined.

He kissed the skin below her belly button, nipped oh so gently on the protective folds around her femininity, then drew them open and pressed his tongue to her center.

She was unprepared for the sensual assault, for the fire that ripped through her. She nearly lost her balance as her knees buckled. He chuckled softly, his warm breath puffing against her private places.

She tightened her hold on his shoulders. He was the only stable part of a world that had started to spin.

Back and forth he flicked against her. Teasing, wet, sweet. She caught the rhythm of his caresses. Her muscles tensed, then relaxed in counterpoint to his attentions.

She couldn't move away or closer, she couldn't control
her reactions, she couldn't do anything but stand there and let him please her.

And please her he did. With a steady stroking that made her want to scream. Every part of her quivered. She needed more. She whimpered and held on to him tighter. Her hips tilted toward him, toward the magic, the promise of release.

Then, when she felt she couldn't stand it another second, when her legs really were about to give out and she didn't have the strength to breathe, he pressed his lips to her secret flesh and sucked on that tiny spot.

Pleasure exploded instantly. She had no idea what she did or what he did. The world could have ended. It didn't matter. Light poured through her, liquid and hot. Every muscle convulsed in a seemingly endless release of complete perfection.

When she regained conscious thought, she found herself sitting on the edge of the bed. Nick knelt at her feet, his hands on her thighs.

“I…” She paused, not sure there were words to express what she was feeling. She leaned toward him and cupped his face in her hands. “How did you do that?”

He raised one eyebrow and grinned. “Trade secret.”

She kissed him. “Amazing.”

He reached for her foot and untied her athletic shoe, then repeated the procedure and removed her socks. Her jeans and panties slipped over her ankles and she kicked them off. Before she could pull her shirt over her head, he took her hands in his.

“Did you bring any protection?” he asked.

He'd just touched her in the most intimate way possible, so why was she blushing after the fact? It was the question, of course. Protection. She shook her head.

He squeezed her fingers. “I'll be right back.”

He left the room. She stared after him. He hadn't tried
to avoid the issue or convince her a condom wasn't necessary. He might be a con artist in his business life, but he conducted the rest of his affairs like a gentleman.

She pulled her T-shirt over her head and reached for the back closure on her bra.

“Wait!” he called as he stepped back into the room. “I want to do that.”

“Why?”

He tossed a small box of condoms on the nightstand. “Taking off your clothes is the best part.”

She grinned. “If you really think that, you've been doing it wrong.”

“Nearly the best part.”

As he kissed her, he reached around her and unfastened the bra. As it slipped down her arms, he moved onto the bed and settled himself behind her, her rear pressed up against his groin. She could feel his arousal though his jeans and his broad strength against her back.

He pushed her hair over one shoulder and dropped kisses on the other. Large, tanned hands rested on her midsection. She didn't get out much and her skin was pale. The vision of obviously male fingers touching her paleness, resting close to the dark hair at the apex of her thighs, aroused her.

He moved his hands higher and cupped her breasts. He held her gently, carefully, stroking the soft skin with his fingers. Around and around, sneaking nearer but never touching her taut nipples.

She decided to do some torturing of her own and rubbed her palms against his rock-hard thighs. He retaliated and finally brushed his thumbs against her nipples. She felt the contact all the way down to her toes. He did it again, then again, until the fire returned and all she could think about was how much she wanted him.

He moved his hand down her belly and touched his little finger to that secret place. She jumped.

“No,” she cried and turned on the bed. “You're taking off your clothes, too.”

He leaned back on his elbows and grinned. “I wouldn't have expected you to be pushy in bed. I'm pleasantly surprised.”

“It's only fair.”

“You're right.” He straightened and pulled off his T-shirt. It went sailing across the room.

He was broad and muscled, tanned skin covered with gold hair. She pushed him onto his back and pressed a kiss in the center of his chest. He smelled masculine and tasted of temptation. She ran her palms up and down the hard ridges of his belly, savoring the strength and the way her touch made him jump.

She kissed a line from the center of his chest to his right shoulder, then bit down.

He groaned and tangled his hands in her hair. “You're even more beautiful than I thought. Kiss me.”

She brought her mouth to his. Their tongues mated. She slipped her hand down his belly, over his jeans, then cupped his arousal. He was large, hard and pulsing. Between her legs, heat exploded. She wanted him there, claiming her.

He broke the kiss. “I wish you wanted this as much as I did.”

“I do,” she said, then smiled. “Trust me. I want you.”

“But you haven't been dreaming about it.”

She thought about the nights she'd lain awake listening for sounds from the living room, wondering what he slept in and if he ever thought of her. “It's crossed my mind a time or two.”

He didn't look convinced.

She leaned closer, letting her bare breasts stroke his chest. “You sometimes wear a black suit. There's something about the cut. I can't explain it, but when you take off the jacket and throw it over your shoulder, my knees get weak.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I'm not kidding. You wear this white shirt and your shoulders are about a mile wide. I always watch you walk away from me when you wear that suit. The trousers really show off your butt. It should be illegal.”