Her Sinful Secret (2 page)

Young, handsome, athletic build.
What did he have to be nervous about?

“It might take a whole bottle to settle mine,” she said in all honesty. “I’m rusty at dating.”

“I’ll be gentle if you will.” He winked.

And her heart flipped at the insinuation. Her body screamed to do him, while her mind warned she was robbing the cradle. But a few glasses of wine should numb her mind.

“Red or white, sweet or dry?” he asked as the server arrived.

“You choose.” Living alone had made her indifferent to what she drank or ate. “I’m easily pleased.”

“I hope not.” His eyes raked over her face, settling on her mouth.

She felt her lips pulse, ready to be kissed. No, ravaged.
With lots of sucking and licking and nibbling.
She swallowed a sigh.

He ordered Soave. Once the waiter returned, decanted the wine and left, Max lifted his glass.
“To an exciting evening.”
He smiled, his teeth white and even, his mouth firm and full and enticing.

While their glasses clinked, her crotch moistened and her clit
swelled,
eager to get to the exciting part of the evening. Lust was apparently ageless. She met his sleepy-lidded, sexy gaze and her pussy clenched with want.

As she sipped the white wine, he studied her over the rim of her glass. “Tell me, Wendy, what kind of man are you attracted to?”

“Fred, my husband, was a man’s man. He played golf with his buddies several times a week.” Soon as the words were out, she realised Max meant now, not then.

“I don’t play golf.” His lips curled upward at the corners, good-naturedly.

She smiled back, wanting to kiss those corners. “It’s not a deal breaker.”

“Is there something that is?”

“Nothing comes to mind.” She shrugged, unsure what to say next. She really was out of practice when it came to flirting.

“Tell me about you?”

“I…we purchased a car dealership ten years ago, and Fred became a salesman while the economics of the business and our personal finances fell on to me. Now, I’m alone and still running things.” She fingered the stem of her glass, recognising how dull it sounded and how tiresome it was to be the one always in charge.

“Ever wish you could let go? Let your guard down and let someone else take care of you, even if just for one evening?” His tone was soft and seductive, wrapping around her insides like a silken thread and drawing her to him.

“
Mmm
.”
She closed her eyes briefly, savouring the notion. “I’d love to relinquish control.”

When she opened her eyes and they connected with his dark, alluring ones, she understood what he meant.
Sexual control.
Her stomach clutched, but not with fear, with titillation.

* * * *

Max couldn’t take his eyes off Wendy’s.

In the candlelight, hers had darkened to an enticing shade of blue. She licked her lips, her pink tongue contrasting with the deep rose of her lipstick, which had stained the rim of her wineglass. He was sorely tempted to touch his tongue to the brim, just to sample a taste of her.

He restrained himself.
Later.
Then, if he got lucky, he’d taste more than her mouth. Her lush breasts, outlined by the black silk of her dress, teased him from across the table. Their graceful sway whenever she lifted her glass or heaved a breathy sigh sent shockwaves to his dick.

“Tell me about you,” she
murmured,
her voice midnight low and husky. He prepared to tell her some personal sexual preferences when she said, “I read in your profile you’re divorced. What went wrong?”

He chuckled. “You really are rusty at this.”

“I’m sorry.” Her cheeks blushed pink.

He hadn’t meant to embarrass her. If it put her at ease to know about his ex, he’d tell her.

“My ex-wife changed. At first, we both had a lust for sex and travel.”

“Uh-huh.” Her eyes glinted with curiosity, which he suspected wasn’t merely travel oriented.

“After three years, she wanted to stay at home and make a baby. I didn’t.” He couldn’t, but that was too much information for a first date. He handed her a menu. “Shocked?”

“Not yet.” Her smoky eyes sent him a sexy signal before she opened her menu.

With one look she had his dick dancing. He shifted on his chair and concentrated on pasta dishes. His fingers tightened on the menu until he gained control of his spiking testosterone.

He cleared his throat. “I recommend the cannelloni. It’s the speciality of the house.”

“You must come here often.” She nodded to his unopened menu.

“Mostly alone.
I like the slow pace at the end of the day.” But tonight, he wouldn’t mind faster service.

She put down her menu. “Why don’t you order for both of us?”

He grinned. He liked that a lot. He admired a woman who wasn’t afraid to concede to a man’s opinion on occasion. He relished even more one who capitulated in bed.

After he placed their orders, he turned to her. “I was surprised you were as pretty as your picture. I hear most women email ten-year-old snapshots.”

“Going on the premise that men do the same, I counted on you being ten years older.” She straightened the cloth napkin. “How old are you, Max?”

“Old enough.”
When she rolled her eyes, he said, “I really am thirty-two and, before you ask, I prefer mature women. They know what they like, say what they mean, and ask for what they want instead of tossing around ambiguous hints.”

She laughed. “I hope I can live up to the hype.”

“I’d bet on it.”
His entire stock portfolio.
She was smart, witty, had life experience and, if he read her right, a sexual curiosity simmering beneath her sophisticated demeanour he’d kill to explore.

Their dinner arrived and she dug in. He admired a woman with an appetite. It foretold of other appetites to be fed and indulged. His sac tightened at the promise of the night ahead of them.
   

“I know you like to swim and walk on the beach. You know I like sports and travelling. Is there anything else you’d like to know up front?” He was eager to get the everyday stuff out of the way and open her up to intimate questions, ones involving body parts and positions.

“What kind of car do you drive?” She flicked at her fork tine with her tongue in a most erotic way.

He sucked in a breath, wanting her tongue on him. On the head of his prick, swiping and swirling while he dug his fingers into her hair. The auburn strands looked so damn silky and soft from across the candlelit table.

“I drive a Jag, but I’m open to a trade-in.”

“I’m not looking to sell you a car. I was merely curious.” She shrugged her shoulders in a delicate, feminine shift of skin and bone.

“I’m curious, too.” He lowered his voice and hoped he wasn’t moving too fast for her. But the night was getting later and he was getting hornier with each rise and fall of her chest, each wispy word she uttered, every glance from her captivating blue eyes. “Do you like your sex slow and easy or hard and fast?”

She blinked, tossed her napkin and grabbed her purse.

Fearing he’d gone too far too soon, he reached for her wrist.

She smiled at him. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He smiled back.
“My place or yours?”
Taking her elbow, he escorted her from the restaurant.

“Yours.
I couldn’t offer you a nightcap at mine. I stopped entertaining once Fred died.”

Outside on the pavement, he asked, “My car or yours?”

“Yours.
I took a taxi after hearing about another carjacking on the news this evening.”

Moments later, with Wendy tucked in the passenger seat of his Jag, Max sped uptown.

Chapter Three

Max flipped on one dim lamp.
His apartment was furnished with clean lines and sleek furniture in monochromatic shades of brown. As they stood face to face in the marble foyer, soughing quiet breaths, sexual tension mounted. Wendy’s nerves were strung taut with anticipation. Their eye contact felt magnetic, his body heat electric.

“It’s been a while and I’m not sure what to do,” she whispered inches from his mouth.

“Don’t do a thing. I’ll do it all.” Each word caressed her lips. His hands rested on her shoulders, reassuring and inviting at the same time. “Relax and let me make you come.
Again and again.”

Again and again
.
“Can you do that?” She’d been lucky with Fred if she’d got off once.

“Or die trying.”

She stopped herself from melting right there at his feet. She wanted to act as if she was worldly and travelled, with experience to bring to the table,
er
, the bed…

She had every intention of exploring his bed before the night ended. Who knew when she’d get her hands on such a young, virile man again? Who knew if she’d ever be brave enough again? At the moment age didn’t seem to matter to her. In the light of day, it might be a different story.

She held her arms out away from her sides. “I’m all yours, Max.”

“I’m one lucky stiff.”

She wondered how stiff his cock was as he feathered his fingers along her outstretched bare arms.

Gentle stirrings awakened every fibre of flesh and muscle and nerve. Tingles ended where his palms rested flat against hers, their fingertips touching.

Her breathing halted as his mouth edged closer. When at last their lips met, she devoured him with a kiss so aggressive and hungry she ought to have felt ashamed. But she didn’t. Max made her feel carnal and desirable.

She let her inner wanton woman emerge. Or maybe Max brought her X-rated spirit to life. Whatever, she gave herself over to the kiss. His mouth was firm and warm and talented, moving over hers, suckling and teasing. His teeth nibbled her lips and nipped at her tongue. When his tongue tangled with hers, her breath quickened. Her nipples peaked. Her lower lips quivered.

All from a kiss.
The man was good. Sex with him was going to be hot and satisfying. She felt it in her very wet, achy crotch.

“May I undress you?” he whispered into her mouth.

“Yes,” she hissed, deciding to let him have his way with her. Even though she didn’t have the muscle tone of a younger woman, she’d rely on the muted lighting in the hall to hide her flaws.

He settled her arms at her sides before he let go of her hands. Reaching behind her, he unzipped her dress and peeled it down her shoulders to her waist. He skimmed his tongue along the swell of her breasts, dipping his moist, hot tip into her cleavage.

Her breath caught in her throat. Heated sensations slithered through her, leaving her aware only of her body and his adept tongue.

When he stopped, she felt abandoned until he
shimmied
her dress down and she stepped out of it. With great care, he folded the silk garment and draped it over the top of the steel-framed console table, where his mail and a spare set of keys took up most of the small space.

“Your body was made to worship,” he murmured, his eyes glazed and sexy.

If the remark wasn’t evocative enough to turn her into
Jello
, his smouldering gaze was. Her high heels and knees both wobbled as his dark eyes stroked her body. When his stare lingered on her breasts, her nipples pebbled beneath the lacy material of her corset, aching for him to suckle and grate the nubs between his teeth until she begged him to stop.

Her lustful, shameless thoughts amazed her but only for a moment. Soon her sole concentration was centred on his tantalising touch.

With slow, deliberate motions, Max edged the lacy straps of her body-hugging lingerie from her shoulders. Her skin tingled and flushed hot beneath his hands.

“As much as I love the sight of a woman, of you in a corset, I can’t wait to see and feel you nude.”

She made a mental note not to skip her gym workout next week.
If there was a next week in their future.

She let him look his fill. The corset held her tummy in and the dim light cast her thighs in shadow. He lowered his hand and cupped her mound. Their body heat melded and her clit swelled when his palm moved back and forth with a gratifying amount of friction.

He groaned. “I can’t wait to feel your naked pussy.”

She hadn’t been felt up in years and was more than willing to accommodate his request. She spread her legs for him, and he pulled on the corset’s crotch, opening the snaps with one sharp burst. Slipping his fingers into her fleshy folds, he plunged in and out until she dripped with want.

“Max,” she murmured, coaxing.

“
Shh
. Just stand here and enjoy.” He shoved another finger inside her, stretching her wider and hitting her G-spot with every lunge of his crooked fingers.