The Pregnancy Test (9 page)

He drew her fingertip into his mouth and sucked, sending a rush of heat through her body. Her nipples pushed painfully against her bra, and Mandy leaned closer to him, pulling his scent of night breeze, sand, and male muskiness into her nostrils.

“Of course you’re in control. You’re an awesome assistant.”

When she pulled her finger back, he followed it, until his mouth was brushing along her jaw. Mandy’s eyes fluttered closed. “Should that be my title? Awesome Assistant? I can post a sign on my cubicle.”

He kissed the corner of her mouth, such a light teasing touch that she shivered. “How about Asshole’s Awesome Assistant? Or ASS for short?”

She laughed, their breath mingling together as his lips hovered above hers, his nose alongside hers, forehead brushing hers. “You’re not an asshole at all, but you’re a very funny man when you want to be.”

If anyone would have told her two months ago that Damien was a man she could banter with, be relaxed and completely abandoned with, she would have laughed herself sick. And goodness knew, she hadn’t needed any more of that.

But it was all so easy, so right, so comfortable with Damien, that she was taking, but she was giving just as much. He made her feel sexy, she made him laugh, and they were both the better this night for it.

His answer was to stop the torturous teasing hover over her mouth and kiss her, a full open kiss that had her wrapping her arms around his neck to get closer. Mandy loved the way he kissed, as though he had nothing to lose, nothing to prove, like he just wanted her more than anything he’d tasted before.

Then his tongue found hers, with hot, wet urgency and Mandy wanted more. She pressed her breasts against his bare chest and ransacked his short hair with her fingers, pulling back to catch her breath and moan. It wasn’t enough, not when she needed, had to have all of him over her, inside her.

Her body pulsed and throbbed, ached and suffered, as he kissed her again and again, a delicious promise that felt blissfully good but was never enough to fulfill the hunger coursing through her.

“Damien.” His hands weren’t even exploring, but were just resting on her back while he kissed her, and Mandy wanted more, more, more, with an intensity that shocked her and set her hands shaking.

“Yes?” He stopped doing everything, stepping back to look at her in question.

Mandy yanked her dress down over her hips and let it drop to the floor. “For a man who threatened to unzip me outside on the pavement, you don’t seem all that interested in getting me naked now.”

“Oh, I am,” he said, his pale blue eyes darkening in the soft glow of the bedside lamp he’d left on as he looked her up and down. “You have no idea how interested I am. But I’m savoring this.”

The warm breeze from the ceiling fan fluttered over her as she stood in her bra and panties, her breasts full and tingling from his inspection, her thighs shifting together restlessly. “Don’t savor for too long.”

His head slowly went back and forth, eyes not meeting hers but still studying her body with revelry. “Forever wouldn’t be long enough to look at you. You’re beautiful.”

And Mandy’s heart squeezed and her breath caught, and at that moment, she would have given him anything he wanted, suspecting that of the two of them, he was the one who actually needed this more.

But she needed, too. Desperately. So she held her breasts with one hand, unpopped the bra hook with the other, then let it join her dress on the floor.

Damien’s jaw clenched. He swallowed hard.

Mandy waited, her nipples hardening, her fingers splayed across the front of her hips. She waited, while he stared and stared and her panties grew damper and damper, and her fingers itched to move lower and her breasts ached to be touched and her eyes fell into slumberous half slits.

Then finally, when she thought she would scream or cry or whimper or puddle on the floor in a drenched mass of sexual longing, he moved.

And cupped both of her breasts, while his mouth closed around her nipple and sucked hard.

Okay, that was worth the wait. “Oh!” she said, unable to think of a better word to sum up the feeling that she was going to die of pleasure.

He pulled back, not releasing her nipple until the last second so it gave a wet, sucking pop. “Mmmm,” was Damien’s opinion as he switched from right to left.

She would have to second that. This time he plucked, then sucked, making her toes curl on the hard ceramic tile.

His thigh shifted, pressing against her swollen clitoris, which was damn cruel in her opinion. She moaned softly, her fingers peeling down the waistband of her panties, ready to be naked so she could then get him naked and they could be naked together, which would clearly be the best possible outcome of all of this.

But he stilled her hands. Frustrated, she shifted them to the button on his pants, but he held her hands firmly against his hard abdomen, preventing all movement, while he continued to lave his tongue across her nipple.

“Damn it, Damien, I want us naked.” Mandy jerked at her hands, but he was stronger than she was.

“It’s not time for that yet.”

“What’s it time for?” Besides death by excess desire? Mandy was a healthy woman and had enjoyed the few adult relationships she’d had. She’d thought she’d known what lust was like. She’d thought she’d understood urgency, the rush of sexual longing.

She had been stupid.

The way Damien made her feel, with so very little effort, made those previous experiences pale into bland. Like salsa without the jalapeno. On the Mexican menu of sex, Damien was four and a half chili peppers, full of flavor and heat.

He lifted his head from her chest, leaving her nipples wet and aching. “It’s time for you to lie down on my bed, so I can spread your legs and taste every inch of you. Then start all over and do it again.”

Mandy sucked back her drool.

Make that five chili peppers. If he got any hotter, her eyes were going to water.

D
amien readjusted his cock in his pants, hoping to give it more room but unwilling to let it out.

Let free, who knew what it might do.

Tear down walls at the very least, like the dick that destroyed Punta Cana.

That was how desperate he felt, how painfully he throbbed, and how much his body ached for release. So he was keeping it in his pants so he wasn’t finished before they even got started.

It wasn’t that he’d forgotten, exactly, what a naked woman looked like. But he hadn’t realized how much he had missed this—the hot kisses, the shaky fingers undoing buttons, the damp prickles along his flesh, the heavy timbre of their breathing.

Mandy stood in front of him in nothing but a white pair of panties, and even those served to fuel his desire. Because he could see the outline of her sex, see where her curls were pressing into the satin, see a tiny wet spot that proved her need for him was as great as his need for her.

Damien brushed his thumbs over her nipples, enjoying the soft groan she gave. Her breasts were full and curvy, and her skin had a rosy tint to it. She was lush and firm and radiating health, life, sexuality.

But she wasn’t moving. He lightly pinched her nipple. “Lie down, Mandy. Now.”

Her hand closed over his, and she removed his finger from her breast, like she couldn’t take the touching anymore. “Yes, sir. Right away, sir. And would you like some coffee as well?”

She tossed a grin over her shoulder as she turned and walked to the bed, a definite sway in her hips, her panties drooping so that he could see the swell of her backside, the dip between her cheeks.

He gave a snort. It still shocked him that she teased him so easily, with no concern for the consequences. He had erected so many walls around himself, built his hard, cold reputation to the point where no one would dare toss out a joke at his expense. It was appealing that Mandy didn’t treat him like the victim, or the guilty, or the heartless cynic, but just like a man. A friend. A lover.

“Very funny, wise ass. But if you’re thinking of stand-up, don’t quit your day job.”

As Damien followed her to the bed, Mandy crawled up on top of the yellow floral bedspread, giving him a heart-attack-inspiring shot of her backside.

“I have no intention of quitting my day job. My boss and I are very compatible.” Mandy lay down and rolled onto her back, arms above her head. She smiled and lowered her knees until she was displayed all before him, delicious and sensual.

Damn it. Damien swallowed hard. Sweat trickled down his back, his fingers itched to touch, his tongue felt thick, a buzzing rang in his ears. “When we get back to New York, we go back to the way it was. But for now, we’re going to enjoy each other.”

Her knees dropped open. “Enjoy me, Damien.”

With fucking pleasure. He reached forward, took the two strings on either side of her panties, and ripped them with one hard jerk.

“Ohmigod!” she said, staring down at him in shock. “You destroyed my knickers.”

With just an index finger, he hooked the white satin and pulled the remnants away from her, baring her caramel curls to him. “Knickers are easy enough to come by.” And he tossed them over his shoulder.

Knees on the bed, Damien leaned down and kissed her inner thigh, right, then left, nuzzling his nose into her firm flesh and breathing the salty scent of her perspiration, and the sweetness of her arousal. He brushed a kiss on the damp hair, below her clitoris, his mouth pressing into the give of her sex. Mandy jerked below him, a hissing sound pushing through her teeth.

He pulled back a little, shifted until he was comfortably resting on his elbows, cozily ensconced between her legs. Then he spread her folds and took a long lick over her pink, swollen flesh.

Damien narrowed his eyes, fingers squeezing into her thighs as her taste exploded on his tongue. He heard her groan, felt her legs shift restlessly on either side of him. His blood rushed, his heart pounded, and his control frayed dangerously as he buried his tongue inside her. She surrounded him, hot, quivering, a damp rush flooding over him as she reacted to his invasion, his thrusting deep parody of sex.

“St-op,” she said, back arching on the bed.

“Why?” he asked as he pulled back and ran the pads of his thumbs over her plump swollen folds, up and down, up and down, enjoying the soft give, the way she squirmed and mewled in distress, the way her legs spread farther and farther in invitation.

“Damien…I’m too close. I can’t…stop.”

“Too close to what?” he asked with forced indifference. The thrill, the satisfaction of pleasing her, raced through him, urging him to take this slow, no matter how deep he ached.

And this was a pleasure all in and of itself. He had never been so aroused in his entire life, and he didn’t think it was the result of three years’ abstinence. It was Mandy. Her intelligence, her humor, her beauty, her pure unrestrained responses to him. The naked honesty on her face as she looked down at him and said, “I’m too close to an orgasm. And I don’t want to yet.”

Her heels dug into the bed as she tried to shift up and out of his way.

Damien dropped his weight down on her legs, anchoring her on the lumpy mattress. “Why not?” He kissed her clitoris. “Two orgasms are better than one.”

She swore, twitched to try and free herself, and he almost laughed.

“I never have more than one, so I’d like to delay it as long as possible, if you don’t mind.”

He did mind. He wanted her to come now. He wanted her to come later. He wanted her to come again and again until they both forgot who they were and where they came from and why they couldn’t share a future like normal people could.

Dragging the tip of his finger across her moisture, down between her cheeks and back up again, he flicked his tongue around her clitoris in a teasing little circle. “I do mind. Come for me, Mandy. Please.”

Swallowing hard, he plunged his finger into her softness. She gave a cry of shock that dissolved into a ragged moan. Hearing her spurred him on, made him want to, need to, hear more, hear her burst in that ultimate pleasure.

As he stroked into her, he dropped his mouth down onto her clitoris and sucked the tight pink button. Mandy jerked up, then froze half sitting as she shattered. Her hands slapped at his head, searching for a hold, as her orgasm set her muscles clenching around his fingers and her clitoris tightening.

For a long moment, she convulsed in release, and Damien held her, still stroking.

Then her groan trailed off into a curse.

“Oh, damn it!” she said with a cry of frustration. “I told you not to do that.” Her fingers curled in his hair and jerked his head back and forth with a violence that both amused him and turned him on. “God! This is all your fault.”

Damien wiped his mouth and tried to feel shame, but it just wasn’t there. “I’m sorry. But I couldn’t help myself.” He sat up and reached for the button on his pants. “I can’t help this either.”

Still feeling shattered and more than a little miffed at her lack of control, Mandy lifted her head at the tone in Damien’s voice. He was dispensing with his trousers.

Fine. Whatever. It didn’t matter in the least to her. He had ruined it all by forcing the orgasm issue after she had specifically made a point to explain to him that she didn’t achieve that more than once per sitting, and now she was feeling languid and sleepy and not the least bit interested in…

His erection nudged her. “Oh!” she moaned, then slapped a hand over her mouth.
No moaning, Mandy
. It would go to his head.

“Feel good?” he asked as he pulled back.

“Actually, it’s rather unpleasant,” she said, even as she lifted her backside in an encouraging offering. Damn, it was so hard to stick to her principles when he was tickling his finger there.

He gave a low laugh as he dug a condom out of his pants pocket and opened the package. “I’m really sorry. Do you think you could suffer a little more unpleasantness for my sake? Just two minutes, tops. And next time, I promise to give your requests the attention they deserve.”

Bereft without either his finger or his penis, she decided that was prettily said and she could forgive him for forcing shattering pleasure on her. After all, it wasn’t his fault she was an easy mark, and she didn’t doubt that it would feel good to have him slip inside her, imbed himself deep in her body.

Mandy felt aftershocks of excitement fissure through her thighs. “All right. Two minutes. Tops.” She tried for an insufferable sigh, but couldn’t keep the corner of her mouth from lifting.

With a laugh, he said, “Ogre. Next you’ll have me in tears.”

He nuzzled his nose along her thigh, then skimmed his lips over the slight bump of her belly with a tenderness that made her throat tighten. He was momentarily distracted by her breasts, spending a good minute or two lavishing attention with his tongue on each one while she tried not to go cross-eyed. Then he moved to the curve of her neck, and finally, to her mouth.

Damien kissed her deeply, openly, while his hands brushed her hair back from her face. Then he murmured against her lips. “Thank you. I truly appreciate your generosity. I promise to make the next two minutes as painless as possible for you.”

“Do get on with it,” she said, though the effect of using her mother’s voice when addressing the maid was ruined by the groan she collapsed into at the end.

He was nudging her again, his pupils dilated, eyes glazed with passion, and Mandy exhaled a shaky breath. It felt so torturously good, the tip of his erection resting just inside her swollen damp flesh, and she involuntarily rocked her hips toward him.

Now he was the one swearing. She could tell Damien was clamped on tightly to his control, easing himself deeper inside her one slow steely inch at a time. It had been three years for him, and yet he held himself back, sweat beading on his forehead, shoulders straining, neck muscles bulging, corded sinew and throbbing veins.

She didn’t understand, couldn’t think why he didn’t just plunge inside her like they both wanted him to, and her fingers snaked past his waist and settled on his rock-hard backside. Slowly, slowly he filled her until she was squirming and aching and pleading with him. “Damien, please…”

But he ignored her, sucking on the swell of her breast above her nipple as he rested inside her, only half buried. “I’m savoring again, that’s all.”

Well, he needed to stop. Mandy grabbed his bum and shoved down, at the same time she rammed her hips up toward him. She may not be as strong as him, but she had surprise and determination on her side. The thrust sent them colliding together, and he filled her fully, stretching her sensitive muscles and giving rise to the speculation that maybe she could have another orgasm.

Bloody hell, that felt good.

Her body was taut everywhere, tingling and swollen, and she used her inner muscles to clench on to him, afraid he’d leave.

“Mandy, oh, damn, honey.” His eyes were closed, a shudder rolling over him.

She knew the feeling. But after a long drawn-out second that felt like half her life, Mandy started to worry that he wasn’t going to do anything. That he was just going to sit there in her, like a parked car.

He was a complex man, who clearly had some issues in a past relationship, and he had more willpower than she could ever hope for, but now wasn’t the time for him to be exercising it. It was time for him to let it go, to allow himself pleasure.

“Damien, darling, aren’t you going to make love to me?”

He wanted to. God knew he wanted to. But Damien was afraid that if he moved, he would go careening into an orgasm that would embarrass the hell out of him. He was afraid that if he let go, if he unleashed all the passion he’d been withholding for three years, that other, uglier emotions might rise along with it. He was afraid that if he moved, and it was over, then it would be, well, over. This was it.

But Mandy’s soft, coaxing words nudged him out of his indecision.

The way she felt, wrapped around him, under him, her body open for his, hot and slick, and the way her lips parted on a pant and her eyes glazed over convinced him. He’d risk it.

With a groan, he pulled back as a precursor to gently sliding into her, but Mandy dug her nails into his ass and cried out, “No, don’t leave!”

Mandy did some female trick that had her muscles tightening, holding him in place like she refused to give his cock up. His mouth went dry, blood thundering in his head, and he decided he didn’t give a damn about staying in control. He’d already gone this far, he’d already let his body feel passion again, he might as well take it all the way.

He slammed into her and forced a groan out of both of them. Mandy’s eyes rolled back in her head.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said through gritted teeth.

When he stroked again, he had to close his eyes. Jesus, she felt so good. So hot, so giving, so close around him, holding on and milking his cock with her tight body, agony and ecstasy intermingling in his mouth like a potent mixed drink. He felt drunk on pleasure.

“Fantastic,” she murmured, her heels kicking him in the backs of his thighs as he moved over her, and she made no attempt to meet his erratic rhythm. Some strokes were quick and short, others slow and deep, and he didn’t know what in the hell he was doing, he just wanted to feel her every which way. But he forced himself to rein back in, get a grip on himself, and he found a spot that felt just right, so perfect that he had to keep hitting it over and over.