Author: Jaci Burton

What? What the hell was he talking about? Was he hitting on her?

Oh, no. Oh, hell no.

She went for her bag and dragged out her cell phone. “I’m calling a cab.”

He grasped her wrist and leaned into her. “We’re not done talking, Liz.”

He wasn’t referring to having a conversation. She knew it, and so did he.

“Why now, Gavin? Why, after all these years, are you doing this now?”

“Why do we have to dissect it?”

Her heart pounded so loud she wondered if Gavin could hear it.

He laid her phone on the counter, pulled her fingers away from it.

Call a cab. Go home. Get out of here now before you do something incredibly stupid, Elizabeth.

“I don’t have sex with my clients, Gavin.”

His lips quirked. “You want me to fire you so I can fuck you?”

Her body was going up in flames. Why was he doing this to her?

“Not particularly.”

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

She couldn’t breathe. How was she supposed to answer that?

Lie, you idiot, just like you’ve been lying for the past five years.

He moved to the center island like a predator, caging her between it and him by placing his hands on either side of her hips.

“You’re panting, Liz. Do I scare you?”

“No.”

He leaned in closer, his hips brushing hers. And then she felt the hard ridge of his cock, and every ounce of common sense fled.

He bent and pressed his lips to her neck, his hair brushing her cheek. She inhaled, breathing him in, realizing this was the closest she’d ever been to him. He smelled like fresh soap and everything she’d ever dreamed of. She gripped the granite counter so tight her fingers hurt.

She tried swallowing again, but she’d gone dry. At least her throat had gone dry. Below her waist she was wet, primed and ready for him to slide inside her and give her what she’d fantasized about for the past five years. Her pussy throbbed with anticipation; her breasts hot and swollen. Her clit tingled, and if he rubbed against her just the smallest bit, she could come just thinking about how good it could be between them.

“Gavin,” she squeaked.

“Touch me, Elizabeth,” he murmured, sliding his tongue across her neck. “Put your hands on me, and tell me this is what you want.”

Damn him. Damn, damn, damn. How could she not give him what he asked for? How could she not take what she wanted?

But this would change everything between them. And would undoubtedly cost her Gavin as a client.

Gavin pushed his hips against her, and she melted. She slid her arms up and tangled her fingers into his hair. She pulled on his hair to bring his face up, and the wild need she saw in his eyes matched her own.

His mouth was on hers in seconds, lighting the fire she’d banked for all these years. It exploded when his tongue slid between her teeth.

She’d dreamed of his lips, the taste of him. He tasted like whiskey and the promise of hot sex. He licked her bottom lip, nibbled at it. Her fingers were lost in the soft thickness of his hair, the only thing soft about him as his mouth ravaged hers. She knew there’d be nothing easy about Gavin. He was hardness and pain, and she reveled in it as he drove his tongue inside her mouth and tangled it with hers, sucking her tongue hard until tears sprang into her eyes.

She let out a ragged moan. Gavin grabbed her hips and lifted her onto the counter, settling between her legs, grabbing her butt to draw her heated center against him. He pulled her blouse out of the waistband of her skirt, lifting it over her head in one jerky motion.

He skimmed his hand along her throat and between her breasts. Elizabeth leaned back and watched as he laid his tanned, dark hand across the cup of her bra.

“Sexy, Elizabeth.” He lifted his gaze to hers, then looked back to her bra as he pulled the cup aside, revealing her nipple, which was hard and puckered. “Such a pretty nipple, too.”

She held her breath when he bent and put his lips over her nipple. The second she felt the hot suction, she gasped, her fingers moving into his hair again. She couldn’t believe this was happening. All the hot fantasies she’d stored up of her and Gavin together were coming to life.

She’d never believed her dreams could become reality. She might be a little drunk tonight, and she knew he was, too, and this would probably never happen again, so she was committing every moment of it to memory so she’d never forget it. The pull of his lips on the tight bud of her nipple, the sight of his dark head against her pale breast, the scent of him as she inhaled a deep breath, and simply the way she felt—totally consumed by him.

It was her every fantasy to be taken by him. She’d known it was going to be like this.

And she’d never, ever tell him how much it meant to her. She had to keep herself under control, didn’t want him to know how much power he held over her.

Never give a man power over you, or he’ll destroy you.

She lived by those words, and yet right now she was in languorous splendor.

She’d take back control later. Now she gave it up willingly as Gavin dragged the other bra cup aside and lavished attention on her other nipple, using his fingers on the nipple he’d made wet with his mouth. And when he looked up at her, his eyes now filled with a darkness that melted her to the countertop, she waved the white flag in surrender.

He pushed her skirt up over her hips and laid the palm of his hand over her sex, smiling up at her in the way she’d always wanted him to—that secret smile he’d always reserved for other women, never her.

“You’ve got some very sexy underwear, Elizabeth. Do you always dress this way, or did you wear these tonight with the intent to seduce someone?”

She fought to find her voice. “I always dress this way.”

“When was the last time you fucked someone?”

Her eyes narrowed. “None of your business.”

He swept his hand up across her sex, and she gasped. “Answer me.”

“No.”

Pleasure shot through her as his fingers teased her, then stopped. “When was the last time you fucked a man, Elizabeth?”

She knew better than to give him that kind of control. She’d already given up too much. “When was the last time you fucked a woman, Gavin?”

He swept his fingers along the side of her panties, and she swore if he got anywhere near her clit she’d come. “You want me to lick your pussy, don’t you? You want me to make you come, don’t you?”

Her sex throbbed; her mind awash with the visuals of his head buried between her legs, his soft tongue lashing her pussy until she screamed in orgasm. “Yes. Make me come, Gavin.”

“Then answer me. “

“Why do you need to know?”

He shrugged, his fingers lightly teasing the satin material of her panties. It was a breath, a whisper of touch across her sex. Enough for her to feel it, yet . . . not enough. “I want to know. Tell me. How long has it been?”

“Two years.”

He frowned. “Is that the truth?”

“Yes.”

“Damn, Liz. Look at me.”

She dragged her gaze to his. He grabbed the tiny wisps of material at her hips and ripped. She gasped; he smiled, then dragged the remnants of her very expensive panties away. Her naked butt hit the granite counter, and she shivered.

“Cold?”

“A little.”

He swept his hand under her butt and lifted her, then planted his mouth on her sex.

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. It was so good. She lifted, watching him as he slid his tongue in a wide arc across her clit, then dragged his tongue down her pussy lips, shoving it inside her.

“Gavin,” she whispered, trembling at the sensations of his tongue rolling along her flesh.

It had been so long since a man had touched her. She didn’t allow it for so many reasons. Sex was so complicated, and often she got so little out of it.

Thoughts fled as she gave up and allowed herself to feel, to experience the magic as he sucked her clit, ran his tongue up and down her pussy, licked her until she fought for every ragged breath.

He grasped her wrists and held her, his fingers digging into her skin, the pain only intensifying the sensations as he took her to the edge of control.

And embarrassingly, she wasn’t going to last. She wanted to because this was the sweetest pleasure she’d ever felt. It was magic, and she was only going to have it once. But the rushing tide of orgasm wouldn’t hold, and she lifted, cried out, and came, her climax a shock wave of sensation that zapped her nerve endings with unbearable pleasure. Gavin tightened his hold on her while he lapped up everything she had to give.

Her muscles quivered, and he helped her sit up, his face wet from her. Her hand shaking, she used her thumb to swipe across his chin. He grabbed her thumb and sucked it, his gaze still dark with unquenched desire. He handed her wineglass to her, and she took a couple long swallows to quench the raw thirst in her throat, but it didn’t quench her thirst for him.

She was afraid it would take a long time for that thirst to be slaked.

He lifted her into his arms and placed her on her feet. All she wore was her skirt and bra, which was off-kilter. He was still completely dressed, his hard cock visible against his dark slacks.

He grabbed her hand. “Come on.”

He led her down the hall, her bare feet padding along the wood floor toward the master bedroom that was all burgundy and cream and wide windows overlooking the ocean. She wished it was daylight so she could see outside, but there were open French doors leading to the terrace, a soft breeze blowing inside, and a lazy fan circling over the . . .

Oh, my God.

A bed that could sleep at least six people.

Now she understood the appeal of this house for Gavin.

It was the bed. Had to be the bed.

She wondered how many people he’d had in that bed at one time.

“You rent this house before?”

“I own this house, Elizabeth.”

Yes, it definitely made sense.

“Plan many orgies?” she asked as she wandered into the room and stopped at the foot of the massive four-poster.

He frowned. “Huh?”

“That bed is not made for one, or two, people to sleep in.”

He continued to give her a confused look, then glanced at the bed and back at her. “Oh. I sprawl. I like a big bed.”

“Gavin, that goes beyond big bed. That’s the kind of bed a polygamist would covet.”

“I don’t have orgies, Elizabeth.” He grabbed a remote off one of the nightstands, pushed a button and the drapes started to close.

“Oh, please, don’t shut all the night out. I like it open and breezy. It’s not like you have peeping neighbors or anything.”

He clicked the button and reopened them.

“Thank you.”

He tossed the remote to the table. “Undress.”

She put her hands on her hips. “You like giving orders.”

He moved in front of the bed and casually leaned against the footboard. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

She tilted her head back and laughed. “Or, what? You’ll spank me? You want my clothes off, Gavin, get your ass over here and undress me.”

His eyes went dark, and oh, God. There it was. That not-quitethere smile, the one that screamed secrets.

Except his smile fled, and he stared her down, the heat swirling in his eyes. And then he advanced on her.

For a second, she trembled.

And she never trembled.

Whether it was excitement or raw desire she didn’t know, but he was on her in seconds, her bra ripped and tossed to the ground. He grabbed her skirt, and she felt the strength of his hands at her zipper.

“Wait. Fine, I’ll do it.”

He stopped and stepped back, a smirk on his face as she drew the zipper down and let the skirt fall to the floor.

“Asshole,” she said as she stepped out of it. “That underwear cost a fortune.”