Burn for You (17 page)

“My, we’re in a hurry.”

“Damn right I am.” He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her in for another hot kiss.

The elevator doors slid open, but neither of them noticed until someone on the elevator cleared their throat dramatically.

Chuckling softly, Victoria broke the kiss. Two steps toward the elevator, she froze. “Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?”

* * *

Nothing killed an erection like hearing the words
Mom
and
Dad
. At least, that was usually true. A Victoria-induced erection evidently needed a bit more time to recede. Hence the need for Jason to strategically place himself behind her.

“What are
we
doing here?” Victoria’s mother asked breathlessly, looking a little rumpled herself. Her hair was standing up on one side, and Mr. Russo was wearing the grin of a man who’d just enjoyed a little hanky-panky. Way to go, Mr. Russo.

“I should be asking what
you
are doing here,” Mrs. Russo finished.

“Oh, I uh…needed to…I forgot something in my room, and we were just on our way to grab it.”

The elevator doors started to close again and Mr. and Mrs. Russo quickly stepped off. Holding out his hand to Jason, Mr. Russo said, “You must be Jason. I’m Victor Russo.”

Jason shook Victor’s hand. “Good to meet you, sir.”

They hadn’t gotten to rule number seven yet. But Jason would be covering that one as soon as they got to Victoria’s room—if they ever fucking made it that far.

No meeting the parents.

“And I’m Loretta, Vicki’s mother.” Loretta took Jason’s hand in both of hers. “I just can’t even tell you what a pleasure it is to meet you. I’ve been so curious ever since I saw that picture in the
Chicago Tribune
.”

Remembering Victoria’s complaints over her mis-matchmaking mother, he released Loretta’s hand and put his arm affectionately around Victoria. “It seems a lot of people have been. We certainly never expected all this media attention, did we, sweetie?”

Victoria’s eyes widened, but she quickly regained her composure and put her arm around his back, pinching him hard on the side. He bit the inside of cheek to hold back a grunt of pain.

“No, we sure didn’t, schmoopsie-poo.”

Victoria’s sarcasm was completely lost on Loretta. “Jason, you know, every year we have a huge Labor Day cook-out. I really hope we see you there. It’s such a great time, and I bake for days beforehand.”

“Ma, Jason doesn’t like sweets.”

Surprised that she would remember such a thing, Jason tried to smooth things over with Loretta, whose mouth had dropped open. “I’m sure I would enjoy yours though.”

“Oh, don’t be a suck up, Jason. Then she’ll start expecting such compliance from the rest of us.”

Loretta beamed. “Vicki, stop. He’s not being a suck up, he just knows a good baker when he sees one.”

He didn’t have to look at Victoria to know that she was rolling her eyes. “Well, Victoria tells me she makes a mean cherry cheesecake, and I’d be willing to bet she learned it from you.”

“You know what? She did.”

Victoria totally owed him. He was racking up major mom approval points over here. He’d probably bought her at least a solid six weeks of freedom from her mother’s meddling ways.

“So, Vicki tells us you’re an arson investigator?” Mr. Russo steered the conversation into talking shop as cops were prone to do, and Jason felt Victoria sag next to him while her father talked about working a homicide case alongside a Chicago PD arson investigator.

Had he not been worried that Victoria was going to fall asleep before they got a chance to finish what they’d started, he would’ve thoroughly enjoyed talking to the old man. He’d love to hear what working homicide was like, or to ask him if he knew of any cold cases he could pass on to Preston to research for his books. But at the moment he had another priority.

And she was currently having trouble keep her eyelids open.

Loretta, bless her heart, must’ve noticed. “Victor, don’t bore everyone with your work stories. Besides, we should really get back to the reception.”

Mr. Russo held out a hand again. “Good to meet you, Jason. Maybe we’ll talk more at that Labor Day cook-out.”

Jason shook his hand. “Sure thing, sir.”

They said their good-byes, and her parents got on the elevator headed down, while they waited for the one going up.

“I told you that you didn’t need to put on a show, you know.” She sounded a bit perturbed for someone who’d just been granted a reprieve from her mother.

“I know, but I figured if your mom really thought we were together she might leave you alone for a while.”

“Well, yes, that’s true, I guess.”

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside. He hit the button for six.

“Enjoy it while it lasted. It’s not happening again. I’m only giving you a pass on this little incident because we hadn’t covered rule number seven yet.”

“And what’s rule number seven?”

“No meeting the parents.”

“Ah-ha. Well, I’d like to add a rule.”

“What’s that?”

“Rule number eight: No sweeties, or sweethearts, or honeys, or babies.”

“Definitely, no babies.”

She laughed. “Shut up. You know what I mean.”

“Okay, yes, I do. But let’s still agree that rule number nine will have to be no babies.”

“Obviously.”

He smiled, appreciating how easy it was just to
be
with Victoria. But they’d slipped back into the friend zone between the parent-meet-and-greet and the rule making, and he didn’t quite know how to get things back to the sexual heat they’d had in the stairwell.

And holy crap, he wanted that back.

The doors opened on six, and he followed Victoria down the hall to her room, realizing that she wasn’t carrying a purse. “Wait. Do you have a key with you?”

Smiling, Victoria dug the key card out of her dress. “But of course.”

She unlocked the door, and they entered the modernly decorated suite. She tossed the key on the dresser and turned back to face him, biting her lip and looking uncharacteristically unsure of herself. “So…”

“So.”

“We’re really going to do this, huh?”

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. He hadn’t expected to have nerves right now. And if they hadn’t been interrupted, he probably wouldn’t have. But he’d had time to cool his libido, to let rational thoughts enter back into his brain, and to remember that he was playing with fire. Risking the easy friendship he had with Victoria on an experiment in friends with benefits.

“I guess so…” He lifted his gaze to hers. “Unless you’re having second thoughts?”

She didn’t say anything but turned away to grab her cell phone from her purse, probably checking the time or something.

“I mean…I meant what I said, Victoria. I don’t want to ruin our friendship. Or make things difficult at work.”

Without saying a word, she placed the phone on the desk. She hadn’t been checking the time. She’d been finding music. The song they hadn’t stayed at the reception long enough to finish streamed from her phone.

“I believe you had a very specific request,” she said, placing one of her gorgeous legs on the desk chair to undo the straps of her sandal.

Jason swallowed, knowing she was about to bring his earlier fantasy to life. She bent over the second sandal, her strapless dress gaping slightly in the front and revealing more of that tempting tattoo.

He sat on the bed, already forgetting why this might be a bad idea. He was ready to watch her dance. Ready to be tortured.

Chapter 14

Fake it ’til you make it. That’s all Victoria had to do. Just act like dancing and disrobing in front of a gorgeous, fully clothed man was no big deal. Act like her hands weren’t shaking and butterflies weren’t bouncing off one another in her stomach. Act like she knew what the hell she was doing.

That was a lot of fucking acting.

She turned so her back was facing him and reached behind to slowly unzip the back of her dress. To him, it would appear to be part of the show, the tease of revealing skin slowly, exposing her back inch by inch. In reality, it was a way to avoid looking at him, an attempt to keep the nerves at bay.

Except it wasn’t working.

She moved her hips in time to the music and forced herself to turn around and face him. Still swaying, she lowered the periwinkle dress just a fraction of an inch and raised her gaze to his.

Jason’s heavily lidded blue eyes devoured her, and he reached out, grabbed the dress and pulled her toward him.

She swatted his hand and backed out of his reach. “Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast, Meadows. You asked to be tortured.”

He growled and adjusted himself on the bed, visibly hard beneath his dark gray slacks. Seeing his arousal—it was all she needed to chase the nerves away. She was in control here, and power was an instant aphrodisiac.

Holding the dress with one hand, she slid her other hand down the smooth silk, tracing her own curves and touching the aching spot between her legs through the fabric. Jason stroked himself over his slacks, his eyes never leaving her.

“Victoria.” The command in his voice was unmistakable.

Smiling, she continued her striptease, fully embracing her role as temptress. She let the dress slide down on its own as she moved to the rhythm of the song.

“Come here,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“I’m not finished yet.” The dress finally slid over the slight swell of her hips and fell to the floor. She hadn’t needed a bra, thanks to the construction of the dress, so she stood before him in nothing but a white silk thong.

“Christ, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

Right now, in this room, with this man drinking her in with hungry eyes…Yes, she felt beautiful. And feminine. And sensual.

Grabbing him by the tie, she pulled him off the bed to stand in front of her. “Rule number five, Meadows.”

He wasted no time complying and wrapped his arms around her, one hand grabbing her ass while his tongue danced with hers. Her bare nipples grazed the fabric of his suit jacket in the most delicious way, sending swirls of pleasure through her entire body. Desperate to feel more, she arched against him.

Never breaking the kiss, Jason shrugged out of his suit jacket, and Victoria went to work prying apart the buttons of his shirt. She yanked the shirttails free, and he worked himself out of the dress shirt. The kiss was only broken for the half-second it took for him to yank his undershirt over his head and lose the rest of his clothes.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him, the shock of skin against skin making her breath catch. Claiming her lips again, he walked her backward to the bed. She fell onto the white down comforter and savored the weight of him on top of her when he followed her down.

He explored her body with an urgency that surprised her. It was as if he couldn’t get enough. She closed her eyes and sank into the sensations of his magical touch.

His hands were everywhere—massaging her breasts, squeezing her ass, even running up and down the lengths of her legs. In fact, he seemed to have a particular fascination with her legs, at one point even kissing the sensitive skin behind her knee. All these years and she’d never known what she’d been missing having the back of her knees kissed. It was hot as hell.

She’d never felt so desired, so worshiped. It made her bold—made her want to give him a dose of the pleasure he was giving to her. Reaching between them, she took him in her firm grip and worked him over while she kissed and licked his neck. She reveled in the sound of his breath getting faster with each stroke and the way his grip tightened on her thigh.

“Mmm. Shit. Victoria, I can’t wait any longer.”

“Condom,” she said, rolling away from him and rummaging through her purse on the nightstand. Behind her, Jason kissed her bare back, moving lower until the warm heat of his mouth was at that sensitive dimple just above her buttocks. Victoria arched and moaned, totally forgetting what the hell she was looking for. She started to roll back toward him.

“Condom,” he said.

“Right. Right.”

With fumbling fingers, she managed to locate one of the condoms she’d stuck in her purse at the last minute, deciding it was best to be prepared for anything at a wedding. She held the packet out to Jason.

“You do it,” he said.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Touch me, Victoria. Torture me.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say that she didn’t know the first thing about torturing a man, but she stopped herself. Because tonight she was living up to her name. She was Victoria. And Victorias were confident. Sophisticated. Sensual.

Rising up on her knees, she straddled his thighs and took his hard, long length in her hand. Slowly, deliberately, she stroked him up and down. He groaned, moving his hips beneath her, but she took her time, drawing out the process to torment him as much as possible.

The moment he was fully sheathed, he rolled on top of her and found her entrance, pushing the fabric of her thong to the side. He didn’t ask if she was ready, didn’t test the waters first, just plunged deep inside her with a desperation that matched her own. That’s what she’d wanted. What she’d needed. To be filled, stretched, possessed.

She arched beneath him, using her body to beg him to move faster, harder. His body must’ve understood because he did exactly that.

She found his lips again, her tongue slipping in to meet his in a dance that mimicked the one their bodies were doing.

After a few minutes, he pulled out and hovered over her, breathing hard.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing. Nothing. I just need a second. Gettin’ a little too excited over here.”

“I thought that was a good thing.”

“Uh, not if you haven’t come first, it isn’t.”

“Oh, that. Yeah, don’t worry about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…you know…” She shouldn’t have said anything. He wouldn’t understand, and she sure as hell didn’t want to explain. “Never mind.”

“No, I want to know.”

“It’s nothing. Come on. Let’s not ruin the mood with talking. Come back to me.” Her hands on his backside, she urged him back to her, but he stayed just outside her entrance.