Just One Taste...(24)

       

Someday? her incredulous libido asked. Are you crazy? Let's just get through tonight.

To the cheering ovation of her baser needs, she slid her hand down his chest, then cupped his erection.

He lifted his head and stared down at her, his eyes glittering. "Don't start something you're not prepared to finish."

She stroked him up, then down, pushing the pads of her fingers against  his fly. "Oh, I'll finish you." She stroked again. "Eventually."

Then she removed her hand and stepped back.

While he was momentarily stunned, she unlocked the door, then opened it.

His palm slammed against the door, forcing it closed again. "Are you crazy?" he asked, his voice strained.

She planted her hands on her hips. "No, I'm in charge."

A muscle along his jaw twitched. "Not anymore."

Quickly switching tactics-from badass dominatrix to put-upon caterer-she  said in mock horror, "I can't have sex in a client's house."

"I don't see why not."

All furious, frustrated six foot two inches of him loomed over her.

Excitement and power washed over her. "Later, baby." She kissed him  lightly. "It'll be worth the wait." She tugged on the door, and he moved  his hand. She scooted out before he came to his senses.

Wow, there might be something to this dominant-chick deal. Not to  mention revenge was sweet after he'd left her wanting last night.

She swallowed her smile as she heard him banging-what she presumed to be his head or his fist-against the wall.



THE TEASING, CONNIVING, winking, hip-shaking, leather-clad woman was driving him insane.

She'd accidentally, on purpose brushed against him about four hundred  times. She'd smiled at him, winked at him. She'd even cornered him in  the kitchen once and kissed him until he was dizzy.

He wanted her so much, he was shaking.

He'd been a good sport all night-serving drinks, cake and appetizers.  He'd distracted overenthusiastic guests when they'd tried to rip off the  stripper's clothes before he was ready to expose his leopard-print  thong. He'd reminded himself he was a gentleman. Several times. He'd  even enjoyed Vanessa's commanding tone-and definitely the outfit-as well  as the flirting.

At first.

Now, however, he was on the verge of exploding. Being desperate, he  could also admit that part of his anxiousness stemmed from losing  control. He liked being in charge, professionally and personally. With  that leather bustier and some aggressive hands, Vanessa had snatched  control away.

He wasn't sure he liked the sensation.

"Maybe I should have brought the chocolate fountain," she said, appearing at his side.

That would have surely sent him over the edge. "I think it's time we moved these people along and packed up."

"But the client is having so much fun."

Dear God, that leather top boosted her bust to amazing heights. "Tell  her I'll give her a thousand dollars to send everybody home."

She patted his cheek. "Poor Lucas. Is he frustrated?"

"You are a cruel and heartless woman, Vanessa Douglas."

"I know."

"Thank you so much, Vanessa," Millie Switzer said as she approached them. "This is a great party."

Tipsy, but not one of the women who'd attempted to jump the stripper, the widow Switzer smiled her appreciation.

Lucas had tried to avoid her during the night, but with a party of only  twelve, that wasn't easy. He'd found himself forming the impression of a  lovely but lonely woman, unsure how to act or handle the crisis in her  life.

"I'm so glad you came," Vanessa said to Millie. "A girls' night out is just what you needed."

Millie's gaze slid to the stripper, who'd thrown a towel around his  waist and was drinking a bottle of water, while surrounded by most of  the other guests. "I wonder if this is how it happened for Gilbert."

The cheating husband. Suddenly Lucas didn't want to know about any of  this. Why couldn't that idiot Anthony have kept his mouth shut? Why  couldn't Lucas put the whole business out of his mind? Was he really  considering ratting out a colleague? Even one who treated his daughter  badly? Especially since he himself had done many immoral things in  pursuit of "justice."                       
       
           



       

"If he met her just like this," Millie continued. "At a party. What was it about her-"

"Millie," Vanessa broke in, "the party's wrapping up. Why don't you get your purse, and we'll get you to your car."

Millie sighed as if she couldn't care less. "Yeah, okay." Listless, she ambled off.

"Men are pigs."

"Some men," he clarified, urging Vanessa toward the kitchen. "Let's start packing."

It took them nearly an hour, during which they cleaned both the kitchen  and the living room, packed equipment and sent guests home in cabs or  turned them over to Millie's steady limo driver. On the way home, Colin  called Mia, and they arranged to meet at the bakery. Recognizing  opportunity, Lucas asked Mia to drop him and Vanessa off at his  apartment, since she had Colin to help her unpack the van.

Surprisingly, Vanessa didn't argue against this plan.

Which was how he found himself unlocking his apartment door minutes later with his own personal dominatrix at his side.

He didn't bother to turn on any lights. He just tossed his keys on the  foyer table, grabbed her hand and led her down the hall to his bedroom.

"I'm supposed to be in charge," she said.

"You can be on top."

His weakened knees lasted until he sat on the edge of the bed. She stood in front of him, hands on her hips, legs braced apart.

He allowed himself one, sweet, leisurely look down the length of her.  From her glittery eyes and makeup to her overflowing bustline, to her  tight mini that revealed miles of slender legs.

Perfection.

Part of him wanted to examine why he was so desperate for her. Though  his body was incinerating itself from within, it wasn't just any woman  he wanted. Not just any woman would calm the fever.

Only Vanessa.

She was an addiction, as necessary to him drawing the next breath as oxygen. Would he ever get enough?

As fire scorched his skin, and his heart threatened to leap from his  chest, he lifted her skirt, grabbed the edge of her panties and yanked  down. During the party he'd been perilously close to begging for relief,  and now he was almost there … .

He tugged her into his lap. When her crotch connected with his aching  erection, he moaned, though that still wasn't enough. In a minute, in  just a moment, I'll be inside her … .

"That's two pairs of panties you owe me," she said, though her aroused eyes belied her casual words.

"Send me a bill." He had finesse. He really did. Where did it go when he touched her?

He fumbled with his fly, but somehow managed to roll on a condom.

Just another second …

His hands shook. Then, with a lift of her hips, she sank down, taking  him inside her, sending ecstasy shooting down his spine. Her leather  skirt rubbed against his stomach, and he wished he'd taken the time to  get rid of his shirt, so he could feel the smooth material against his  skin.

Vanessa rocked her hips and moaned deeply. But Lucas hadn't anticipated  the control their position would give her, and she was moving way too  slowly for him. He wanted to thrust deep, to satisfy the gnawing ache  he'd endured all night.

"Faster," he muttered against her neck. "You've teased me all night."

She pushed him back on the bed. "Do you think we'll ever do this naked again?"

"Sure. In about ten minutes."

Obviously noting the desperation in his voice, she braced her hands on  either side of him and increased her pace. No teasing rolls, no slow  withdrawal and return. She banged against him, pistoning her hips as if  she were running a race. Their mating was intense, and his stomach  contracted with renewed lust.

Reaching beneath her skirt, he gripped her hips. She was determined,  almost rough, and wildly exciting. He fought to hold back his orgasm  until she came with him.

Then her thrusts suddenly sped up, she moaned, and he felt her contract  around his erection. Stars burst inside his head, and he squeezed his  eyes shut as his climax shot through him. His muscles contracted, his  hips surged up. He shuddered one last time before his hands fell limply  at his sides. Vanessa collapsed on top of him.

Minutes later, when his heartbeat had slowed closer to normal, when the  chase of satisfaction was temporarily sated, regret rolled through him.  He was trying to become the man he'd pretended to be for so long. He  wanted to be respected for his character, not just his money and  success.                       
       
           



       

And yet, when his needs had demanded, he'd done what he always had-he'd taken.