One night would work. Just one night. It happened all the time, after all, especially when there was champagne involved. And Maverick would be satisfied—once would be enough to end this crazy pursuit, and he’d no doubt be happy to forget the whole sordid affair by then. Which would take the heat off Morgan when she returned to work.
It could work. She’d make it work.
The number had finished, but Maverick seemed as reluctant as she was to let go.
‘Would you like to keep dancing?’ he whispered.
She prised her head from his chest then, and stared into his dark, aching eyes. ‘The dancing is nice,’ she admitted, her heart banging loud in her chest. ‘But I’d rather make love with you.’
A moment. A slow blink. She saw the kick in his throat when he swallowed as her words registered, she felt the thud of his heart, and she felt the corresponding thump of her own when his glinting eyes transmitted their approval.
‘Let’s go,’ he croaked.
They were barely outside when he kissed her the first time, spinning her against the wall, pinning her there while his mouth spun magic upon hers.
I must be drunk, she thought, wanting to laugh with exhilaration, wanting to cry with madness, wanting to melt away into the darkness and have him now.
Somehow they made it to the car, and eventually, with a groan of desperation, he once again tore his mouth from hers long enough to get the car into motion.
She sat side-on, tracing her fingers down his shadowed jaw, for once able to indulge her wants and urges, eager to learn all she could about how this man felt under her hands.
He snared her fingers and dragged her hand to his mouth, planting a kiss on the palm of her hand that was so hot it threatened to melt her bones.
He looked across at her, a gaze so filled with barely controlled longing that it took her breath away. ‘Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?’ he asked.
She didn’t doubt it. One look at the tight planes of his face, the flare of his nostrils, was evidence enough of the control he was forced to exercise in waiting. But still she was tempted. She ran her hand up one leg, rounding his thigh and finding his long, hard length straining for release.
Breath hissed through his teeth.
‘I want you too,’ she whispered, her voice husky, the reality of what they were about to do setting her body to preparedness, softening her tissues in anticipation.
He stilled her hand. ‘Two minutes,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Just two minutes.’
He pulled off the highway and through a gated estate, finally crossing a bridge to a tiny island. He hit a button on a remote control and the gate slid away, revealing a verdant driveway leading to a low-line house set amongst the palms that looked like it was made of almost nothing but glass.
‘Welcome to my home,’ he said, pulling up alongside, rounding the car to open her door. ‘For when I manage to get away from the office.’
‘Oh wow,’ she said, taking in the moonlight glinting off the water. ‘An island paradise built for one.’
He curled an arm around her neck and reeled her in. ‘And, tonight, an island paradise built for two.’
She shuddered as he collected her in his arms and brought his mouth to hers. This time there was no need to limit the kiss; now there was no reason to end it. In an instant she was back on that steep ascent, being taken higher and yet higher, his chest crushing her breasts, one leg insinuated between her own, the sleek lines of his car holding her upright.
His hands rounded her, sculpting her like she was clay and he was the master craftsman, his hands setting her skin alight. His mouth laved at her throat, as impatiently he nuzzled aside her shoulder strap. One side of her bodice slipped away, then the other, and he took full advantage, peeling the fabric down, cupping her lace-covered breast with his hands before dispensing even with that.
Exposed in the balmy night air, she arched her back involuntarily, thrusting her breasts farther into his hands, grinding her hips against his hardness. She was a mess of pulsing nerve endings, a mess of need. And there was only one way to ease this interminable ache.
‘Maverick!’ she cried, and he seemed to sense her distress.
‘I know,’ he growled, scooping up handfuls of her skirt and tracing up her legs. His eyes sparked when he encountered the lace tops of her stockings.
‘Oh God, I was hoping you were wearing these,’ he said, moving his hands to cup her behind. He pressed her to him momentarily, and she felt the full effect of his power against her belly. Then she gasped as he lifted her, sliding her fractionally onto the sleek hood of the car, before sliding one hand between her thighs and touching her there where her need was greatest.