A rush of air-conditioning cooled the sweat on his skin as he pulled Lorelei inside and slammed the door behind her. The light from the hall showed a faint glistening of sweat around Lorelei’s hairline and a pink flush to her cheeks that could either be from exertion or arousal.
Arousal, he decided, as Lorelei threw herself into his arms again with a force that nearly knocked him off his feet. Her arms twined around his neck, pulling his mouth to hers. In response he picked her up and headed for the stairs.
Lorelei’s fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt and a hand slipped inside. The tease of her fingers over his nipple nearly caused him to miss a step. He sucked in his breath, trying to focus on remembering where his bedroom was.
Finally. It took every ounce of control he had not to fling her onto the bed and bury himself in her. Instead he set her carefully on her feet. She’d kicked off her shoes somewhere along the way, and now the top of Lorelei’s head was even with his chest. She opened his shirt farther and placed a kiss on the bare skin.
He’d thought the burning, clawing need he remembered had been a byproduct of too much tequila and a trick of his mind, but as it swept through him in a fierce wave, he realized the memory was dull in comparison with the reality. Lorelei was as hypnotic and drugging as her namesake—and probably just as dangerous.
Her hands were busy, untucking his shirt and pushing it and his jacket off. Then, with an appreciative sigh, she ran her fingers from his collarbones to his belt buckle. She looked up and gave him a small smile, before turning around and lifting her hair over her shoulder to expose the zipper down the back of her dress. A second later the purple silk was in a puddle at her feet, and she was facing him wearing only a scrap of black lace.
Dear God, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. He hadn’t realized he’d voiced the thought until Lorelei placed a hand on his chest and said, “I’m glad there’s still some element of surprise for you.”
How they got to the bed he didn’t quite know, but a second later Lorelei was flat on her back, that jet-black hair tangling around her face, and he was on top of her, savoring the feel of her skin against his.
Oh, mercy, Lorelei thought. This was … It … This was … Mercy. She just couldn’t grab hold of a thought for very long.
Donovan had amazingly soft skin draped over hard muscle, and the crisp hair on his chest left her nipples tingling. His hips moved tantalizingly as his lips mapped her skin, and she wasn’t sure if she was melting or going up in flames. Hands shaking with desire, she fumbled with his belt until Donovan finally took over.
Then it was just hot skin and hands that seemed to know exactly where to touch, driving her insane and right to the very edge. Donovan’s mouth … Oh, dear God, his mouth … She arched against him, her hands searching for purchase on the sheets as she realized the cries she heard were coming from her.
And then the wave she was on broke, her mind going blank as violent tremors shook her to her bones. She heard Donovan’s growl as his mouth found hers, and he ate the scream that came when he drove into her in one hot, thrilling thrust.
Her orgasm just went on and on, and she anchored herself to Donovan’s heaving torso as she rode out the waves of pleasure until she saw fireworks and the world went black.
CHAPTER FOUR
LORELEI’S EYES WERE CLOSED, but she wasn’t sleeping. Even if he hadn’t slept next to her before he’d know; her breath didn’t have that deep, even quality of sleep. The cool sophisticate she’d been hours ago was gone. There were dark smudges under her eyes and a slight stubble burn around her mouth and jaw. That jet-black hair ran riot around her shoulders, the tangles sticking to her damp skin.
She looked earthy and sensual and far too tempting to be real.
But she was also uncharacteristically silent. Lorelei was not the quiet type, and while he really didn’t care for idle pillow talk, the fact she wasn’t saying anything at all bordered on unnerving. Lorelei always had something to say. About everything. But not right now. She faced him, but from her side of the king-size bed, leaving plenty of distance between them. So while there wasn’t exactly a wall running down the middle of his bed, there was a very respectable fence.
And it was probably electrified.
That realization kept his hands to himself when they itched to reach for her again. Instead, Donovan stacked his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. In reality, the only thing more insane than hooking up with Lorelei was hooking up with her twice. He’d known it, but he’d let his little head do all the thinking.
What was it about Lorelei that turned him into a teenage boy who’d never laid hands on a real woman before? The lack of self-control or higher brain function was just embarrassing even to think about. Wouldn’t that be a surprise to all those people who liked to write those “Most Eligible” articles that painted him as some sort of Creole Casanova?