her that she had almost no control over. His sense of humor, the intelligence she could see in his eyes, the careful way he held and touched and kissed her. And, of course, the fact that he was the hottest man she had ever met certainly didn’t hurt, either.
“I’m saying,” she said, her voice more breathless than she would have liked, “that I very much enjoyed having sex with you.”
“Sex, huh?” He rubbed a little harder, a little faster, and shocks of electricity sparked through her. Just that easily, he made her ache. Made her want. Again.
“Nic,” she whispered, cupping the back of his neck with her palm, even as her head fell back against the cool stucco wall.
“Desi.” His voice was low, teasing, but she could hear the sudden thread of tension as clearly as she could feel him hardening once again within her.
“Don’t play.” Suddenly she was as needy, as desperate, as if she hadn’t come at all.
He scraped his teeth along her jaw, bit lightly at the sensitive spot behind her ear. “I thought you liked it when I played.” His breath was hot against her skin, the words a whisper that worked its way deep inside of her.
“You know what I mean.” She clenched her core around him to underscore her words, took great delight in the sexy hiss the movement elicited from him. He closed his eyes, dropped his forehead against hers, and the hungry noise he made had her tightening her inner muscles again and again.
He cursed then, a harsh, sexy word that only ramped up her arousal more. From the moment he’d taken her out onto this balcony—hell, from the moment he’d kissed her on that dance floor—Nic had had the upper hand. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t feel good to get a little of her own back. Especially when doing so was so incredibly pleasurable for both of them.
Nic’s hand tightened on her behind as he lifted her nearly off him before letting her slowly sink back down. He did it a second time and then a third, all the while continuing to stroke her with his other hand. It took only a minute or two before ecstasy beckoned—brought even closer by his careless demonstration of strength—but just as she was about to go over the edge for the third time in less than an hour, he stilled.
“What’s wrong?” She forced open her too-heavy lids, tried to focus on his face despite the urgent need lighting her up from the inside. “Why’d you stop?’
“Come home with me.”
“What?” She was so far gone that her brain had trouble assimilating his words.
“Come home with me,” he repeated, thrusting deep inside her for emphasis. She moaned despite herself, tried to arch against him and get that last bit of needed pressure. But he held her firmly, refused to let her move. Refused to let her come.
“Please,” she gasped, her whole body shaking with the need for release. “I need—”
“I know what you need,” he whispered, taking her mouth in a kiss that was somehow both hard and tender. “Say you’ll go home with me and I’ll let you come.”
She bit his lip, not hard enough to draw blood but definitely hard enough to make him take notice. “Let me come,” she countered breathlessly, “and maybe I’ll go home with you.”
He laughed then, a low, dark sound that sent shivers down her spine even as it made her entire body melt. “I want you in my bed.”
She tightened around him yet again, taking great pleasure in the fact that he groaned deep in his throat. “You know what you need to do then.”
“Is that a yes?” He stroked her once gently. Too gently, but she wasn’t complaining as her nerve endings tingled.
“It’s not a no.”
He laughed again. “Damn, I like you, Desi.”
“I certainly hope you do, considering what we’ve spent the last forty-five minutes doing.” She had to bite her tongue, but somehow she managed to resist adding that she liked him, too. A lot. She hadn’t been with that many men—only two before Nic—but neither of them had ever made her laugh. Not out of bed and certainly not while making love to her. Until him, until now, she hadn’t even known that she’d been missing something.
He bent his head, licking his way over first one nipple and then the other. “Come home with me,” he urged when she was even more of a trembling, needy mess, “and I’ll spend the rest of the night showing you just how much I like you.”
She didn’t want to give in—not because she didn’t like him, but because she did. Too much. And the last thing she needed right now was to fall for a sexy, charismatic rich guy who would break her heart if she let him.
And yet…and yet, like him, she wasn’t quite ready for this night to end. Wasn’t quite ready to walk away from Nic with his bright green eyes and ready smile, his quick wit and gentle hands. And she sure as hell wasn’t ready to walk away from the pleasure he brought her so effortlessly.
“Please, Desi,” he murmured against her cheek, and for the first time she heard the strain in his voice, felt it in the way he trembled against her. “I want you,” he said. “If you just want it to be tonight, that’s okay with me. But please—”
“Okay.” In one desperate, vulnerable moment, she threw caution to the wind.
“Okay?”
“I’ll come home with you.”
His eyes shot up to hers. “You will?”
“I will.” She grinned a little wickedly herself. “That is, if you make me come in the next sixty seconds.” This might be her first—and probably her last—one-night stand, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t make the best of it…
“I thought you’d never ask.” His answering smile was blinding, and it caught her right in the gut. Which probably would have made her nervous if her body hadn’t been on a collision course with its third orgasm of the night.
Nic bent down and took her mouth with his. Less than thirty seconds later he was muffling her screams as she came and came and came.
His house was gorgeous. Worse, it was perfect. Which, she was growing desperately afraid, was simply a reflection of its owner. And while most women would jump at the shot to start something with a gorgeous, rich, perfect man, Desi wasn’t most women. The thought of falling for Nic made her itch, so much so that she couldn’t help casting a few surreptitious glances down at her bare legs to make sure she wasn’t actually breaking out in hives.
Which was why it made absolutely no sense that she was sitting at the bar in the middle of Nic’s (still didn’t know his last name and still didn’t want to) gorgeously designed arts-and-crafts kitchen at two in the morning, watching as he made her homemade blueberry pancakes. Simply because he’d asked what her favorite food was and that was what she had answered.
“So, what’s your favorite TV show?” he questioned as he expertly flipped the first batch of pancakes. Watching him made her a little crazy, especially since all he had on was a pair of well-worn jeans. No man should be allowed to look that good outside the pages of a fashion magazine.
And no man should be able
