Tempting the New Boss(19)
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
“To really make any further progress, Camilla, you need to come over to this side of the plane.”
She swallowed hard and started to get up, veering toward the liquid courage. “Let me get another scotch.”
He grabbed her hand to stop her. Even that slight touch felt good. His thumb circled her palm in a mesmerizing motion as she stood in the aisle. “No more scotch if we’re going to play this game.”
She looked down at him. His jacket was still on, and needless to say, so were his pants, but a quick glance at his lap showed the heft of him straining toward her. His hair was mussed from her fingers, his breathing shallow and his dilated pupils partially shaded by those long black lashes. He was as excited as she was.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m not supposed to play this game with you.”
“I got that. But sometimes you have to break the rules, don’t you?”
His voice was even lower than it usually was, and she leaned down slightly to hear him over the noise of the plane. His mouth was only an inch or so from her breasts, the nipples erect, straining through the silk, and she willed him to press his lips against the thin material. Just the thought of it sent her pulses racing. Instead, he reached behind her and unclasped her pearls before taking them in one hand and running the beads along the length of her neck, a soft sensuous feeling.
She didn’t break the rules. Not usually.
He brought her palm to his lips, pressed a light kiss on it, and dropped the pearls in her hand, then closed it with his own. “If we’re going to stop, you’d do me an immense favor if you’d put these away.”
She could stop. She could still stop.
She lowered her hand, astounded by her audacity, and lightly skimmed the pearls against his hard cock, feeling the heat right through his pants. He groaned and closed his eyes for a second, and she unconsciously arched her hips, imagining him inside her, deep and hard.
She turned her hand slowly, the pearls spilling out, and his cock jerked and seemed to swell even further, like a living thing begging to be freed. One side of his mouth came up, dimple in full evidence, and he clasped her wrist, holding it slightly away. “I’m dying here, Camilla.”
A girl could break the rules once in a while, couldn’t she?
“Show me,” she whispered.
He tugged her toward him, the pearls tumbling to the carpet, until she was sideways in his lap, his desire for her solid beneath her bottom. Holding her in one arm, cradled, he kissed her hotly, and with the other hand he explored, a touch at her neck, then her collarbone, moving lower, until he was sliding his hand into the V of her blouse, caressing the sensitive skin just inside the cup of her bra, teasing, only to draw back out and make his way down her clothed body, her nipples aching to feel his touch.
She moved her bottom against the erotic promise of him, a sensuous feeling in itself, and he reared back from the kiss, as if surprised it had gone that far.
That made two of them.
She noticed in passing that it was dark outside the windows, and the plane shook slightly, the universe apparently reflecting the rocking of her world.
His cock was hard beneath her, his breathing uneven.
Would it be so bad of her to forget about her career for once and act on what she really wanted? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t made bad career decisions along the way. And never had she made a bad career decision for such a hot, pleasurable, and immediate payback.
He swallowed, and she set her mouth lightly along his strong jaw that with the beginning of a beard took him from gypsy to pirate in the space of an afternoon. She licked the dimple at the side of his mouth, making her way back to his lips, and kissed him again, nearly jumping out of his lap when he sucked her tongue.
She pulled back with a laugh. “I think you were underestimating your experience.”
“I think you were underestimating biology.”
She brought her lips back to his and whispered, “You’re getting pretty good at lines.”
“The role-playing really helps.”
He kissed her this time, grasping her chin and holding her still as his tongue sauntered into her mouth. It was either biology or the scotch, but she was feeling something powerful, that was for sure.
Moving by instinct, her good sense meter turned off apparently, she adjusted her position from sideways to straddling his lap as they kissed, hiking her skirt up around her thighs and regretting that she had worn pantyhose. His erection beneath the crotch of her L’eggs pressed against her, hard and substantial and very, very tempting.
He brought his hands from her waist slowly up to her breasts, taking one solidly in each hand, squeezing, not too hard, not too light, and she groaned, digging her fingers into his silky hair, not at all coarse as she had once imagined it would be, since it was curly.