Hot Secrets (5 page)

She moaned softly as his tongue
traced the top of the lace hose and she slipped further back
against the sofa. “Royce
,
I” His fingers slid over the damp black silk of
her panties. She moaned again. “Oh.”

He slipped his finger beneath
the fabric, the sweet sound of her pleasure spurring a hunger in
him for more. He caressed the sensitive, swollen flesh, and
explored the slick proof of her arousal. She moaned again and dug
her fingers into the cushion, trying to sit up.

“Royce”

He moved to frame her body with
his, his elbows hitting the cushion, his mouth above hers. “I’m
going to take you to bed Lauren, but not for the reasons I want to.
I’m going to take you to bed and put you
to
sleep
.”

“What?” she gasped against his
lips. “No. I don’t want… I”

He smothered her protest with
his mouth, kissing her, deeply, passionately, then promising, “I’m
going to put you to bed right after I make you come,” he assured,
scooting down her body, his palms caressing her breasts, making her
pant. He settled in front of her now closed knees, his fingers
finding the lace of her panties under her dress. “You do want to
come, don’t you?”

“Has any woman ever told you
‘no’ when you asked them that question?”

He kissed her stomach. “You’re
the only woman I’m worried about.” He used his hands to urge her
backside to lift, pleased when she complied. Royce rolled the
material down her hips, over her long, sexy legs, tossing the
panties aside. He skimmed her calves, returned to her knees,
which
he was finding
held real appeal for him. “You’re beautiful,” he said, heat roaring
through his veins as he urged her knees apart. “Open for me again,
Lauren.”

Her lashes lowered and lifted.
“I’m …” she let out a breath, “I’m nervous.”

Nervous. His chest tightened
with the honesty of her admission, at her continued trust in
him
;
he wanted to be
worthy of deserving it. Even more so, at the underlining inference
that someone had given her a reason to feel embarrassed. He didn’t
like that. He didn’t like it at all. Protectiveness flared inside
him and he moved to her, sliding his hand to her face and kissing
her. “You have no reason to be nervous with me. Not now, not
ever.”

“Says you,” she whispered.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Says me and I
hope says you too very soon.” He nibbled her lip and then, before
she could feel anything but pleased, eased one of her legs over his
shoulder and settled into the intimate V of her body.

Royce felt her stiffen, heard
her gasp, as he ran his tongue over her swollen nub and then drew
it between his lips, suckling her gently. His fingers stroked her
slick, wet folds, teasing and pleasing, until he slipped one, then
the other inside her
until
she was squirming against him, rocking with
the movement of his hand and his mouth. Until she cried out and he
felt the muscles of her body clench around him, felt his cock throb
with the burn to be inside her. Until he licked and soothed her to
a soft sigh and her muscles relaxed.

When she finally stilled
completely, he kissed her stomach, only to find her covering her
face with her hand. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her
face in his neck. He eased her back to look at him.

She was embarrassed. Nervous and
now embarrassed. He hoped he met the guy that had messed with her
confidence one day. Oh yeah, he did. “You have no idea how sexy you
are, do you?” he asked, nuzzling her neck, his hand stroking up her
back.

“Royce,” she whispered, refusing
to look at him, and he wasn’t going to force her, wasn’t going to
push her. But he knew now, more than ever, that had he given her no
reason to believe he wanted her, she would have pushed him away.
She would have built a wall he would have never been able to
climb.

Royce scooped her up and carried
her toward the only bedroom he’d seen when inspecting the house.
The room was dark, but Royce ignored the switch, his eyes adjusting
quickly. She needed the shelter of the shadows, and he wasn’t going
to take that from her. Not now, not this evening.

A fluffy white down comforter
sat on top of the mattress and Royce settled them both down on top
of it. When she tried to curl into him, to press her body to his,
he ran his hand over her hair, kissed her, and then gently turned
her back to his front. “Sleep, Lauren,” he murmured.

She tried to turn, looking at
him over her shoulder. “But”

He kissed her. “I’m not going
anywhere.”

She seemed to consider arguing,
but slowly turned back into his arms, softening into the crook of
his body, the tension sliding away from her. ”You aren’t what I
expected, Royce Walker,” she whispered and almost instantly her
breathing settled into a slow, steady rhythm, which told him just
how influenced by the alcohol she’d really been.

He nuzzled her cheek, drew in
the scent of her, and knew he was in big trouble. He didn’t
snuggle, he didn’t linger with women, damn sure didn’t get
personally involved. Not for years, not since a youthful near
marriage that had been so wrong, in so many ways. He’d wanted a
career in the FBI. She’d wanted him home, focused on her. The break
up had been bad, and truth be told, she’d been right. He’d been
more dedicated to the agency than to her. His duty to his country,
to the agency, had left no room for a woman, not one he called his
own. But he wasn’t in the agency anymore, and at thirty-four years
old, he was no longer a young college kid who hadn’t lived and
learned. And Lauren affected him like no other woman ever had. And
he saw no way around her hating him in the morning.

“You aren’t what I expected either, Lauren Reynolds,” he
whispered.

Chapter Four

Lauren woke without opening her
eyes, the aches in her body sending her a warning. Slowly, she
forced her lids to lift. “Oh,” she moaned, hand going to her
forehead. It was pathetic that the tiny amount of alcohol she’d
consumed the night before had given her a hangover.

Shifting, hoping a new position
would ease the pain growing in her head, she froze, memories of
falling asleep in Royce’s arms flooding her mind. Realization that
she was alone slamming into her like a concrete wall. “I’m such a
fool,” she whispered. Of course he was gone. Of course he’d left
without even a word. She’d all but thrown herself on him, and good
gosh, she must have a made a fool of herself, because he hadn’t
even taken full advantage of her willing state.

She pressed herself to a sitting
position, an action that made her light headed, but the true pain
was her humiliation. Royce Walker had given her a pity orgasm. If
that wasn’t the most embarrassing thing in the world, then what
was?

Her brows dipped, her nostrils
flaring with an unexpected scent. Coffee. She smelled coffee. How
could she smell coffee? Was this some odd, hangover trick of her
senses? And then it hit her. Royce. Royce was here and he’d made
coffee. A mixture of relief, pleasure, and then panic washed over
her. Her gaze went to the barely cracked doorway. He was out there.
Royce was in her living room. Oh good gosh, how was she going to
face that man knowing she had all but begged him to have his wicked
way with her? Life had suddenly taken a path to full frontal
embarrassment.

She looked down and realized she
was still wearing her dress from the night before. She swallowed
hard. And she had no panties on. They were out there, in the living
room, with Roycethe man who’d taken them off of her. She pressed
her hand to her face. She had to do something, had to change
clothes. Yes. Change clothes.

Lauren shoved aside the blanket
covering her, fighting the throb of her head, and rushed to her
closet. She quickly tugged her favorite long red silk robe
off
the hook inside the
door and slipped it over her dress. It wasn’t much, but it was
extra coverage, extra armor. She cringed. How was putting
on
a silk robewhich
amounted to a piece of lingeriehelping her situation? She tore the
robe off and threw it to the ground. She didn’t want to look
bedroom ready and a robe was bedroom ready.

She was about to head to the
door when her gaze caught on her image in the mirror above her
dresser, and she quickly brushed fingers through the wild mass of
her hair. Her mascara was smudged, her lipstick gone, her general
appearance that of someone who’d drank too much and slept too
little. She fought the urge to go fix her face, not wanting to seem
too affected by this man, like she’d primped for him, even though
she wanted to.

She shook herself, told herself
to calm the heck down. Maybe the scent of coffee was her
imagination, a post drinking, post orgasm, morning after fantasy
that she’d conjured from a deep craving for a caffeine IV. Or maybe
Julie had come by to get the gossip on Royce. Julie! Yes! She had a
key. Julie was here, not Royce.

She laughed at herself, ignoring
the disappointment in her stomach, and rushed to the bedroom door
but still didn’t yank it open. Instead, she eased into a position
where she could peek outside, scanning the empty living room
through the crack, and bringing the dining area into focus. And
that was when her breath lodged in her throat.

Royce was sitting at the kitchen
table, looking quite comfortable and at home while laughing at
something he was reading in the paper. His jacket and tie were
gone, a few buttons on his shirt were undone, and he’d rolled his
sleeves up to display his powerful forearms, one of which flexed as
he raised his coffee cup to his too full, too sensual mouth. The
one that had done so many wonderful things to her, that she wanted
him to do again.

Without warning, he lowered the
paper, and smiled at her. “Good morning, Lauren.”

She cringed at the realization
that she’d just been busted staring at him. Could she ever stop
making a fool of herself with this man? She pulled open the door
and forced the breath she’d been holding to trickle from her lips.
“I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

“A gentleman never leaves a
woman in need,” he said playfully, suggestively.

In
need
. Lauren felt her cheeks heat. She’d made a fool of
herself and she had to amend that and amend it now. “I’m not”

He lifted his cup and chuckled,
a deep, masculine, sexy sound that made her stomach flip flop. “I’m
talking about caffeine and aspirin.”

He stood up and held out a
chair. “Come join me and I’ll get you both.”

***

Royce studied Lauren where she
lingered in her doorway, unmoving, rumpled and sexy as hell, with
trepidation pouring off of her. But there was interest in her eyes,
attraction in the air between them, that morning had done nothing
to dissolve. And Royce knew that no matter how many excuses he’d
given himself for why he’d stayed, why he was still herethe open
window that made no sense, the assignment from her father, the egg
and the champagne that had come with a sense of menacehe was here
for her
;
he’d simply
been unable to force himself to leave. Lauren intrigued him,
enticed him, and in short, took his breath away.

“I hope you don’t mind that I
helped myself to your coffee pot.” he said, when the silence
stretched onward.

As if his words had somehow
released her from a spell, she let out a breath, and her entire
body seemed to ease with the act. “Yes. I mean no. You made coffee
which makes you my new best friend right about now.”

Pleased with that answer, Royce
headed to the kitchen to snag her a mug. He returned to find her
seated at the table in the chair across from the one he’d occupied.
Her head rested on one of her hands, elbow on the table, the other
massaging her temple.

He placed a Snoopy mug that he’d
found in her cabinet in front of her, and sat down next to her,
rather than in his prior seat. He shook the bottle of pills in his
hand and drew her attention. “I dug around and found these in your
spare bathroom cabinet.” He dumped two aspirins in his palm and
held them out for her to take.

Surprise etched her features as
she searched his face and then reached for the medicine. “Thank
you,” she said, cutting her gaze to the vanilla creamer he’d swiped
from the fridge. She poured some in her cup and downed the pills
with the hot, sweet mixture.

“You’re uncomfortable with me
being here.”

Her gaze jerked to his. “No. No.
My head hurts and… ” She stopped and stared into her cup, palms now
wrapping around it. “And I… you know.” Her lashes lifted and she
seemed to be lost for words, something he was sure the well known
dynamo prosecutor rarely struggled with.

“Tell me,” he prompted.

“Oh well, heck. I’ll just say
it. I’m a little embarrassed about last night. I wasn’t exactly
proper.”

Still honest, minus the alcohol.
He’d expected her to be more guarded, expected maybe everything
would change with morning light, that she wouldn’t be near as
enticing as he’d thought the night before. But she was just as
refreshingly different from what he’d expected from her today, as
she had been yesterday. And he knew that part of what made her so
appealing to him was how real she was. Perhaps the most real thing
to touch his life in a very long time. He didn’t want her to feel
embarrassed. Hell, he’d wanted her just as much or maybe more than
she had him. Seeing her so excited had made him burn for more. Her
trust meant more to him than acting on that desire.

“Come here.” He turned his chair
and held out his hand in invitation. She looked at him, nervousness
in her eyes. He drew her hand into his, tugged gently, and softly
added, “Please.”

For a moment, he thought she
would refuse but satisfaction warmed him as she pushed from her
chair and came to him. It took so little for her to make him want,
to make him need. Such a simple gesture of her willingly sliding
into his lap wasn’t so simple for Lauren though.
The effort
he knew it took for her to reach
beyond her inhibitions magnified its meaning a hundred times
over.