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The Player:Moorehouse Legacy(19)

By:J. R. Ward


Joy looked over her shoulder, wondering if she'd caught that right. "What?"

"You heard me."

He put the drink aside and moved in behind her so his chest was up against her back. He put his lips down next to her ear.

"I want you so much that right now, there's only one thing I need more than you." She felt his fingertip on her nape. It traveled slowly down her spine, the thin knit of the dress acting like a conductor for his touch. "I want you out of me. Out of my brain. Out of my body."

She expelled her breath as he continued, his voice husky. Deep.

"I can't forget what you felt like and I want to finish what we started. I shouldn't have left when I did, but I thought things were different then. If I'd known otherwise, I never would have stopped." His fingertip disappeared and was replaced by his knuckles. They rubbed the small of her back. "I never would have stopped."

In a flash of movement he spun her around and tucked her into his hips. His body was wild for her. She could feel every hard inch of his arousal.

"Tell me the truth," he demanded, eyes drilling into her. "Have you thought of me since that night?"

Of course she had, but she'd been so sure she'd killed his desire for her. Catching up to where he actually was, to his undiminished attraction to her, was one hell of a long road.

When she didn't speak, he stroked her neck. "Tell me, Joy. At night, when you're laying in your bed, do you ache for my mouth? Do you wish my skin was against yours? Do you imagine what it would be like to have me inside of you? Answer me."

A smart woman would lie right now, she thought. Or keep her mouth shut.

"Yes." The word escaped from her lips.

He laughed with dark satisfaction. "Good. Because whenever I close my eyes, all I see is you on that bed. I remember what you tasted like. How you arched up off the mattress for me. I hear the way your breath broke when I had my mouth on your breast and my hand between your thighs."

She swayed toward him. She'd remembered the same things. She'd ached from wanting the very same things.

After three weeks of berating herself as an idiot, and being convinced he was never going to have anything to do with her again, the idea that he was as tortured and hungry as she was a hazardous relief.

"I thought I'd scared you off."

"And I was convinced I'd be doing you a disservice if I hunted you down. I've wanted to call you, see you, be with you, since the moment I left. Now I'm sorry I didn't come after you."

"I wish you had," she blurted.

"As do I …  So let's leave. Right now. Let's go to my place." He slid his hand down to her hip. He squeezed and then caressed the curve of bone. "I'll make it good for you, Joy. Like no one else ever has. Or will."

God, she didn't doubt that for a second. But what about afterward?

When she stayed silent, he cupped her chin. "I promise you, I won't stop this time. No matter what you say or what you do." He bent his head and kissed her neck. Sucked her skin gently. "Come with me. Let's finish what we started."

* * *

AS JOY STEPPED THROUGH the doorway of his suite, Gray was surprised by how hesitant she was. Her eyes avoided his, as though she were nervous, and she moved slowly, as if she were on unfamiliar, uneven ground.

Shutting the door and locking it, he reminded himself that she was the kind of woman who could string along a number of men. Tom, the miserable hometown honey she was walking all over. Charles, the lecherous bastard.

Gray, himself, the desperate son of a bitch who wanted her so badly he didn't care she was loose. Didn't care that she wasn't who he'd thought she was.

He watched her drift around the main room, her hands running over varnished woods and satin draperies.

Damn it, that dress was making him woozy.

"So, uh … " She paused. Dropped her purse down on the silk couch. "I've never done this before."

That blush was back. The one that never failed to ensnare him. The one that had clearly worked its magic on Tom and Charles.

"Done what?" he asked dryly.

"Er-gone to a hotel room with a man."

The lie hardened Gray's heart, but had no effect whatsoever on his body.

Enough with the talking, he thought. He wanted her and the time had come.

Walking over to her, he tore off his jacket and worked his tie free in a series of jerks.

She held her hand out. "Wait."

"Why?" He stopped a mere foot away from her and kicked off his black wingtips. Tossed the tie aside.

She licked her lips, making his knees weak. "First I want an apology."

"You've got it." Anything to keep her with him tonight. He didn't care what it took.

"It's about Charles," she said, stepping back.

Oh, yeah, he really wanted to talk about another guy right now. "What about him?"

"Just because I'm standing next to some man, doesn't mean I'm … sleeping with him. I want you to apologize for jumping to that kind of conclusion."

"Fine. I'm sorry."

"You could say it like you mean it."

"I'm very sorry."

She shook her head. Crossing her arms, she hugged herself. "Maybe this was a mistake."

"The hell it is. We need this."

Gray yanked his shirt free from his waistband and started unbuttoning the thing. Her eyes darted to his throat as it was revealed and then followed down his bare chest. When he pulled the halves apart, her gaze drifted to his stomach.

Having her look at his naked skin made his erection throb against his fly like it was searching for the exit. But she was standing there in a kind of shock, as though he were about to jump her.

Absently he became aware of an ache in his chest.

He took a deep breath. Dragged a hand through his hair.

"Look, Joy, you're free to leave, but you need to head for the door right now. I'm about to kiss you and once I do that, there's no going back. Do you understand? Unless you're prepared to wake up next to me in the morning, you better get out of here."

He waited for her to decide. In the silence, his body hammered at his will, demanding to be set loose and take her. His eyes latched on to her lips. He could already feel them under his mouth as he kissed her long and deep.

"I'll even go slowly," he murmured, "after the first time. But you've got to make your mind up now. You're killing me. Leave or let me inside."

Her arms moved and he thought she was going for her purse.

Instead, she reached around to her side. He heard a zipper.

And then the dress hit the floor.

* * *

AS JOY KICKED THE BLACK fabric away with the toe of a high-heeled shoe, she fought the urge to shield herself with her hands. The embarrassment was a little absurd considering the matching black bra and panties showed no more than a bikini would. But then again, when she was in her bathing suit, she wasn't acutely aware that she was going to be naked in another minute and a half. Naked and with a man. With Gray.

Staring down at the rug, she waited for him to touch her. When he didn't move, she nearly cursed. Was there something wrong with her?

She lifted her hands to cover herself.

"No, please, no." His voice cracked. "Don't hide from me. I just want to look at you a little."

Her eyes flew up to his. His expression was reverent. His body super-still.

"I want … " he said. "I want to remember this."

When she dropped her hands, he reached out, stroking her hair back from her face and down over her shoulders. His body was throwing off serious arousal signals, but when he put his lips against hers, the contact was light. Soft. He kissed her over and over again until she relaxed completely and leaned into him.

The sensation of his bare torso against her breasts and belly was luscious.

"Will you touch me?" he moaned, taking her hands and putting them on his chest. "Please … just touch me."

Her palms flattened over his pecs. Under a dusting of dark hair, his skin was hot, a smooth layer of satin over hard contours. His heart was pumping fast, as if he were running.

While his tongue gently penetrated her mouth, she ran her hands over male muscles that were tight, straining. She felt his body shudder and jerk as she went south, across the ridges of his abdomen. His bucking response was exactly what she needed to feel, a great equalizer. He may have been the experienced one, but his desperation put her in the driver's seat. She slid her arms around him and ran her hands up his back, under the shirt.

"Bed," he groaned, grabbing her backside and pulling her against him, his arousal pressing into her belly. "Need a bed. Now."

He maneuvered them around various pieces of furniture, his mouth doing crazy things to hers while they stumbled into a darkened room. She felt something come up against the back of her calves and then he was reaching down, whipping some kind of comforter back. A shift in his weight had her falling to the mattress and he followed, one of his knees parting her thighs. He drove his hips against hers, his hard length hitting just the right spot.

Her nails dug into him as she bowed off the bed and he took advantage of her arch, unclasping her bra and sweeping it from her body. His mouth found her breast and the sweet sucking distracted her as he slid her panties off. When he pulled back, she looked down between their bodies. In the dim glow coming from the lights in the living room, she saw he was working his belt with quick hands. And then his pants and his boxers were gone.

He still had the shirt on, but the whole front of him was bare as he lay down on top of her. The feel of all his skin against hers made her eyes roll back in her head. And then he was burying his lips in her throat, his body moving sinuously against hers in a surging rhythm, his arousal a hot brand on the inside of her thigh. She didn't want to wait any longer. Couldn't. She'd lived with the frustration of wanting for too long.