The Billionaire Bodyguard(11)

'Don't you?' he urged.

'It's okay,' she admitted.

'Only okay?' he purred. 'Then I must be losing my touch.'

The  arrogant boast should have raised her defences, for it implied that  he  was a consummate expert where touching women was concerned, but all  Keri  felt was a debilitating curiosity to know whether he was.

Losing  his touch? Like hell he was! Helplessly, her eyes fluttered to a  close  as he began to stroke her neck. She lifted her head so that more  of it  was available to him, and the ripple of sensation became a  stronger  swell which pulled her along with it.

Keri felt pure excitement  and expectancy as his touch danced sweet,  tantalising pathways over her  skin, as if he was opening up sensitive  nerve-endings for the first  time. How could the simple brush of  someone's fingers against someone  else's neck be so … so electric?

'Sh-should we be doing this?' she questioned unsteadily.





CHAPTER FIVE




JAY  nearly said that they weren't doing anything … not yet, but instead  he  smiled a brief smile. 'It isn't a capital crime, is it, sweetheart,  for  me to touch you?'

'That … that wasn't quite what I meant.'

'Oh,  I get you.' The smile hardened into one of granite. 'You mean … that  it's  unprofessional?' he queried acidly. 'Because I'm just the driver  and  you're the … client?'

Her eyes flew open at the use of a word which  was open to rampant  misunderstanding, but he shushed her with a shake  of his dark head and  his smile became cajoling.                       
       
           



       

'But I'm not  working now, Keri,' he said. 'Neither are you. And what we  do in our own  time is nobody's business but our own. Is it?'

Put that way, it  seemed to make sense. 'No,' she agreed slowly. 'I  guess not.' She  couldn't think straight; she was lulled by his touch,  by the blinding  light in his eyes and the sensation of her blood  growing thick and  heated in her veins, wanting him to touch her some  more. Somewhere that  wasn't her neck.

'Such a beautiful neck,' he mused, his voice deepening like a connoisseur. 'Like a swan-so pale and pure-such beautiful lines.'

'Why,  thank you,' she murmured, once again taken aback by the elegance  of his  words, which seemed so at odds with his tough, no-nonsense  exterior.

She  smiled, and Jay smiled back, knowing what a woman wanted when she   smiled at you like that. She was so accessible, so unexpectedly   compliant, and he leaned forward and placed his mouth where before there   had been only his fingers, opening his lips slightly as they touched   against her neck, so that he breathed soft and warm against the silk of   her skin. He felt her instinctive shivering response beneath him, and   the biting of her fingernails into his shoulders as she reached up her   hands to grip him.

'Oh!' she breathed.

He continued to  graze his lips against her neck, sensing that she  wanted him to kiss her  properly, but he knew from experience that the  best way to turn a woman  on was to make her wait. The slow, slow burn.  But he felt her  distracted little movement, the restless shake of her  head, and suddenly  it wasn't so easy to do that.

He lifted his lips from her neck  and took her face between the palms of  his hands, giving her one hard  look before he lowered his mouth to  hers. He kissed her long and deep,  and it was as if someone had just  pressed a button marked 'sizzle'.

Her  lips opened hungrily, greedily to his, and she swayed against him,   making no protest when he pulled her to the floor and into his arms,  and  through the desire which was fast building in his groin he felt   momentarily taken aback.


He had expected ice, not fire. He  had expected to have to work a lot  harder than this …  His fingers moved  experimentally to her thigh,  waiting for her to sit up and tell him that  this was outrageous, but  she did no such thing, just made a little moan  of encouragement. He  smiled as his fingertips roved upwards, to find  the lacy provocation of  her stocking-top and the silky skin above it. So  his first impression  had been the wrong one; she was obviously a lot  more physical than he  had thought.

She wriggled with pleasure as she felt the splay of his fingers over her inner thigh. 'Jay!' she whispered.

'Mmm?'  His mouth was on her breast now, suckling at her tiny breasts  through  the thin sweater she wore, and her fingers moved distractedly  to thread  themselves in his hair. That was when he moved over her and  began to  kiss her.

'Oh, God-Jay!' she moaned.

He raised his head  and looked down at her, his eyes glittering and  impenetrable as his  fingers tiptoed over her cool yet heated flesh.  'What is it?' he  questioned unsteadily.

'That's good,' she breathed, a note of wonder in her voice. 'So good.'

'Tell  me about it,' he said, in an odd strained voice, as his hand  moved  further and alighted on the delicious moistness of her panties.  She  writhed and mouthed a husky little plea until he lowered his head  and  began to kiss her again, feeling like a man who had tried to light a   match and then discovered he had dynamite in his hands.

Maybe it  was because it was so unexpected that the desire he felt was  close to  explosion point already, and Jay sucked in a dry, painful  breath. Take  it easy, he told himself. And take it slow.

But she didn't seem  to want that. He knew enough about women to realise  that she was pretty  close to the top. Roughly, he slid the leather  skirt up her thighs and  her legs parted for him. She was so warm and so  wet. With a little groan  he reached up and slithered the panties down,  noting the way that she  lifted her feet to help him. Oh, yes-she  wanted this-maybe even more  than he did.

He pushed the skirt still further up. Leather wasn't  the easiest  material in the world to cope with, but there wasn't a  skirt invented  which couldn't be slid up, and soon he had it rucked up  round her hips,  leaving her deliciously accessible. And that was when he  discovered  that she was shaved completely bare, and the unexpected  novelty of that  made him want to take her there and then, but he held  back. He was  good at holding back-a lifetime of discipline and training  paid  dividends at times like this.                       
       
           



       

'Oh, my,' he murmured, on a low, sweet note of anticipation. 'Now, what shall we do next?'

'Anything,' she gasped. 'Everything.'

She was so eager! 'How could any man resist an invitation like that?' he murmured.

Keri  experienced a mixture of disbelief and satisfaction as he moved   downwards and she felt the tickle of his dark hair between her knees.   Her head fell back-she had never liked this, never let …  And then his   lips were brushing up her thigh, his tongue slicking its way up and up   until it found the most intimate part of her, and then her mouth parted   and she gave a tiny scream of pleasure.

It was as if someone had  catapulted her into another dimension, or as  if someone else had  suddenly started inhabiting her skin. She began to  move her head from  side to side-and surely those gasping little cries  weren't hers?

'Oh, Jay,' she moaned softly. 'Jay, Jay, Jay!'

Through  a sensation so intense that she thought she might pass out,  some tiny  voice in her head reached out to tell her that she shouldn't  be letting  this happen, that someone had to stop it and it had to be  her.

But she couldn't.

Wouldn't.

Not now.

Especially  not now, because something was happening to her and she  wanted it so  badly that she felt she would die if she didn't get it.  Something which  was filling her with a fast-building heat and an  unbearable hunger, and  she was terrified in case it would go away and  she would fail to reach  it.

'Jay!' she whispered, on a tiny, pleading note.

He  didn't answer. He was too busy orchestrating her response with the   seasoned flick of his tongue-tasting the sweetness of her unmistakable   woman's taste, teasing her with a featherlight touch which soon had her   sobbing.

Keri heard her own wild, uninhibited cries, but they  seemed to come  from a distant place-and maybe she'd invented them,  because she never  cried out like that before. As if she was desperate  and yearning and  scared and seeking all at the same time-like being on a  runaway train  which just wouldn't stop.

He felt her tense, and  knew she was close, and he licked at her  luxuriously until he felt her  spasm against his mouth. He held onto her  hips while she bucked against  him, tasting her sweet surrender. It  seemed to go on and on and on, and  he remembered reading somewhere that  when women shaved like that it made  them more sensitive. Was that why  she had done it? To increase the  power of her orgasm? Then he really  had misjudged her.