Leave Me Breathless. HelenKay Dimon

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Leave Me Breathless - HelenKay Dimon

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his car while she shouted out directions and slid her hand along his inner thigh. The only thing that saved them from an accident where he wrapped his car around a tree was the desire to get her home and naked. No way was he checking out of this world before he got that opportunity. He stayed focused for that reason alone.

      But they were home now. In her domain, where she would be comfortable and in charge. Where he could learn every inch of her skin without worrying about Mark busting in or anything stopping them. Where he could run the live version of the movie that had been playing in his head, the one where she could give free rein to the energy burning through her and use that hot mouth of hers for something other than giving him shit.

      The threats and frustration faded into the far distance. Whatever or whoever plagued him and wanted him dead could wait. He concentrated solely on Callie—the eager touch of her hands and fierce heat of her kiss. Nothing else mattered but that.

      Their bodies rolled against the wall until he moved them out of the way of the broken glass. Sharp breaths mixed with searching hands as their mouths slanted over each other again and again. Need flushed through Ben until all he could think about was getting her onto any flat surface and peeling that navy suit right off her.

      Blond hair spread over white sheets as he pushed deep inside her. Yeah, he had been dreaming about that one since he met her.

      “Lock the door,” she whispered against his lips.

      This was one order he didn’t mind her giving. “At your service.”

      He left her for the second it took to throw the bolt, then he came back even more eager to pull her close. Fingers dove through her hair and knocked the barrette loose. Silky strands fell over his hands and across her shoulders. Long and smooth. Just as he imagined.

      And he wasn’t alone in searching. Her hands moved to his belt, shifting and tugging until he felt the tightness around his waist loosen. The belt hit the floor. When his fingers returned to the button at the top of his pants, his stomach dipped, giving her easier access to ripping the clothes right off him. The kiss in her hair, the brushing of his palms over her collarbone, all of it allowed her to take the lead. To be ready on her terms.

      The clicking of his zipper got him moving again. He chanted her name as he stripped off his jacket and dropped it to the floor. Without breaking a kiss he reached for her blouse. One, two, three. The pearl buttons slipped from their holes, revealing miles of creamy skin and a pink lace bra that begged for sex.

      But he didn’t need an invitation. He rubbed his palms over her breasts, learning every curve and caressing until her back arched and her nipples puckered. A finger eased under the material’s thin edge, giving him access to her bare skin. When he folded the silk back and slid a thumb across the plump top of her breast, she broke off the kiss and stared down at her chest.

      Every time his thumb passed over her nipple, her body jumped in response. Her high, round breasts lifted and fell on harsh breaths.

      “Bedroom,” she said in a breathy voice.

      He wanted to do the romantic thing and carry her to the bed, but his erection pounded too hard to let him do it. “Can’t make it.”

      She glanced over his shoulder, her eyes wild with need. “Sofa.”

      “Yes.” Hell, the wall worked for him. He still couldn’t believe they made it out of the car and up a flight of stairs to the front door without peeling their clothes off.

      She grabbed his hand and dragged him into her small living room. A couch and a chair and…some other piece of furniture. He didn’t really give a shit what. All he wanted was her. He could do an inventory later. Maybe after they had sex six or seven times and his dick no longer threatened to burst.

      But all of his good intentions fled when she dropped down on the cushions in front of him. The sexy move put her eye level with the part of him that was most desperate for her. She didn’t play games or hesitate. No, she knew exactly what they both wanted. She slid her hand inside his pants, under the elastic of his briefs and straight to his cock. Her fingers squeezed, caressing his tip before sliding down the length of him.

      His knees buckled.

      Seeing her hair fall over his lower body made him rock hard. He wondered how he would survive the delicate torture of her exploration. When she took him between her lips and down her throat, he knew he wouldn’t. His body bucked and trembled. Every time she eased him back out of her mouth, his hips tensed and pushed forward as if his lower body could not tolerate the separation from her.

      The gentle assault of hands and tongue continued until his mind crashed. All the fantasies about taking her long and slow vanished. Something primal and raw replaced them. He wanted her naked and panting, spread out on the floor before him while he pushed deep inside her.

      “Protection.” Ben forced the word with a groan.

      She glanced up, her mouth wet and her eyes glazed with longing. “What?”

      “We need a condom.” If she didn’t have one, he would go door to fucking door of the condo complex until he tracked one down.

      “Right.” She placed a kiss on the tip of his cock and stood up.

      He immediately regretted speaking up. A flaming heat gripped him. With her gone, his muscles refused to relax. Rather than waste time standing there with his erection pressing against his pants, he started to strip. Off came the tie and shirt. He shoved his pants and briefs down and stepped out of them. There he waited, naked and still in the center of her living room.

      Callie reappeared in the doorway with a box in hand and wearing nothing but her shirt. Slim feet with bright red painted toenails showed off the bit of sexy whimsy she hid under her sensible bodyguard shoes. Her lean legs went on for miles, disappearing right at the dark edge of her crisp dress cotton. If she had panties on under there, they sure were tiny.

      And he damn well planned to solve that little mystery in the next few minutes.

      “You should wear skirts to the office,” he said, thinking they’d never get any work done if she did.

      “I can move better in pants.”

      “I can get to you faster in a skirt.”

      She shot him the sort of knowing smile women had used throughout the ages to signal a flashing “yes” sign to their lovers. “Why don’t you concentrate on getting to me now?”

      That was the type of invitation she only had to issue once. “Come here.”

      She threw a box on the couch next to him and walked over to stand in front of him. Her arms curled around his neck as her body slid next to his. Skin met skin. Sweet curves touched tense muscles. Everywhere he was hard, she was soft. Firm and athletic, but very womanly.

      His hands settled on her ass. It took only a shocked second to flip up her shirt and find skin. “You’re not wearing underwear. Not that I’m complaining, because I’m not.”

      “Seemed unnecessary,” she said as she kissed her way along his jaw.

      “Smart woman.”

      Trying to imagine her panties had been bad enough. Now he’d have to deal with the idea of her going without. He felt a sudden surge of gratefulness that he sat behind a big desk in

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