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Authors: Julia London

Tags: #Romance, #Adult, #Contemporary

Miss Fortune (28 page)

BOOK: Miss Fortune
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Wow , Rachel murmured, feeling a stirring deep down.

Wow, he echoed, lacing his fingers with hers. And perhaps, by the time the dessert is served, this chap says no thank you to the flan, for hes thinking of something infinitely more delectable. His gaze casually drifted to her chest. So he asks the object of his desire if she might enjoy a nightcap, he said as he caressed her hand with his thumb, but hes not thinking of brandy, exactly.

Oh Christ, her knees were weak and her belly was fluttering. Fluttering .

How would you find that sort of romance? he asked, looking at her from the cloak of thick lashes.

Perfect, she managed to whisper.

Flynns gaze darkened; he let go of her fingers, leaned forward, his hand sliding up her arm to her elbow. Rachel would you like a nightcap?

Yes , she murmured. Yes, I would love a nightcap. And with Flynns smile, she felt herself light up like a Christmas tree inside. She suddenly lifted her wineglass. A toast, she said. To a man who is handsome and charming and kind to strangers, all rolled up in one, but best of all, terribly romantic.

You forgot frightfully attracted to blue eyes, he said, lifting his glass.

And frightfully attracted to blue eyes, she added. Just like I am attracted to gray eyes.

Flynn grinned, signaled the waiter and quickly paid the check as Rachel finished her wine, feeling it sluice through her, warming her.

They walked outside, bundled up together against the cold as they waited for the valet to bring his car around, and from there, Flynn drove to the Corporate Suites parking lot. I just happen to have an excellent brandy, he said as he helped her out of the car.

Thank God.

That earned an appreciative chuckle from Flynn. Why, Miss Lear, I do believe you might be a saucy little minx beneath all that glitter, he said, pushing open the door to the lobby and ushering her inside.

Thank you. Thats the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.

They strode past the reception desk; Flynn saluted the guy behind the counter, punched the up button on the elevator, and fairly pushed her inside the small compartment.

The moment the doors closed, he turned to her, put his hands on her shoulders, and gently pushed her up against the wall. I have a confession to make, he said, his breath warm on her lips. I lied. He kissed her. Horribly, he added as Rachel caught her breath and kissed her again. And not very imaginatively. Ive got an interior boom box, a lousy jazz CD that a friend loaned me, and a bottle of cheap Scotch that might begin to taste like brandy after a tot or two.

Why, you silver-tongued devil, she said, lifting her face, brushing her lips against his.

The elevator doors opened. Flynn grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him, off the elevator and down the hall to his door. He put his key in the lock, pushed the door open, and stood aside, letting Rachel through first. When the door shut and locked behind him, he caught her hand, pulled her into his arms, and said, I dont know how you do it, but I find you utterly irresistible.

Rachel laughed. The spell is working, then.

Flynn chuckled low in his throat, guided her up against the wall. One hand slipped inside her coat and went around her waist as he edged his knee between her legs. With his other hand, he caught hers and dragged it up the wall, holding it above her head. Rachels enormous bag slipped from her shoulder and landed with a thud at their feet.

Laughing, they both looked down, and much to Rachels chagrin, the little illustrated book she had intended to send to Robin for several days now, had landed, faceup, on his foot The Art of Making Tantric Love, with Illustrations and Notes .

Chapter Twenty-four

RACHEL moved quickly, but not quickly enough. Flynn picked up the book as Rachel shoved several questionable items back into her bag and tried frantically to think of a good reason why she might be on a lovely date with a sex book in her bag.

She popped up with her bag. Oh hey, theres that silly thing! she said, laughing a little like a hyena. I know what you must be thinking about that ! She tried to snatch it from him, but Flynn moved it just out of her reach and cocked one inquisitive brow.

That , she said, shaking a finger at the book, that is a very funny story . Yessir, a funny story. Not what youre thinking.

Flynn looked at the book again. I think Ive heard of this. He opened the bookand his eyes went a little round.

Rachel leaned in, peeked at what he had turned to, saw it was one of the many getting-in-touch-with-your-lovers-sexual-being positions explained. This was so just her luck! And things were going so great up until this!

Okay. Heres the thing, she started, but Flynn had turned away, was walking into the tiny little living area with the book, studying it.

Frankly, Im rather certain this is impossible, he said, more to himself than to her as he pointed at something.

Rachel was instantly behind him, straining to see over his shoulder. See, the whole thing about Tantra is getting in touch with the universe, which I was trying to explain to my sisters one night, but they have a very rude habit of not actually ever listening to me, and all they heard was

Look here, Flynn said, pointing to the next page and turning it sideways. What do you make of it? He turned the book upside down, shook his head. Really, if one was to contort oneself in such a manner, I cant imagine that an injury wouldnt result from it, can you? Nor can I think it would be particularly enjoyable. He looked at Rachel. But perhaps Im missing something. Do you think it would be enjoyable?

I, ah Im not really, ah sure.

Really? Well, speaking strictly from the male point of view, this one looks rather painful.

Pain is definitely not part of Tantra, Rachel said, waving her hand dismissively at that particular picture, wishing to God hed put it down. Which is what I was trying to explain to my sisters, and I finally said, look, youll just have to see for yourself, and Ill send you

Now that , Flynn said, ignoring her as he went on to the next page, is infinitely doable. And he flashed a smilenot the charming, boyish smile she was accustomed to, but a very wolfish, sensual smile that definitely made her curious about the picture.

She stopped trying to explain it and pulled his arm so she could see the picture. Oh. That , she said, nodding appreciatively. It does seem doable, she said, and tilted her head a bit. With the right foot gear.

Flynn laughed, turned his wolfish grin to her again. Full of surprises, arent you? he said, holding up the book. Honestly, you leave me gobsmacked more times than not, he added, and tossed the book carelessly onto the couch.

He put his hands on his hips, looked at her in a way that made her heart suddenly wing a thousand beats a minute. I really had in mind a sort of quiet evening. A little music, a little Scotch, chatting up our favorite movies

Braveheart , she muttered.

Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers . But now I fear I cant possibly do anything but imagine you like that he said, nodding toward the book.

I, ah I think I have the same problem.

Then there is only one thing to be done for it, he said, advancing toward her, head down, that sexy lock of hair hanging across his brow. We simply must explore what weve both wanted to explore all evening. What do you think? he asked, reaching for her, pulling her to him.

She thought that she was seething with desire, literally boiling with it, and said, I think you are a genius.

Granted. He pushed a curl from her forehead, cupped her face in his hand, and kissed the corner of her mouth. But where exactly might a genius begin, he asked as he kissed her brow, if he wanted to experience the full monty of tantric sex?

Touch, she answered in a whisper, and unthinkingly, her hands went to his shoulders. With his mouth on her cheek, Flynn shrugged out of his suit coat and dropped it, then pushed the coat from her shoulders, too.

Touch, he repeated, slipping his arm around her waist, drawing her into him. Any sort of touch? One touch? A series of touches? A slap, a bump, or hopefully, a poke?

Ah, well, she said, bending her neck a little to accommodate his roaming mouth. There are many types of touches. For example, the blind mans touch, you know, where one or the other closes their eyes and sees their partner through the fingertips, she said, her voice faltering a little as he slid a hand up her rib cage to the side of her breast.

Sounds fabulous, he muttered against her skin. Go on.

And massage, she said as she impulsively buried her face in his neck, inhaling the spicy scent of his aftershave, the clean smell of soap and shampoo from his collar.

Ah, the massage , he said in a very seductive voice as his hand wandered down her side, to her hip and squeezed it.

And then, there is, the ah oh , she whispered as he filled his free hand with her breast.

The what?

The use of the, ah mouth, she said, and felt the desire percolating beneath her skin as she motioned vaguely to her lips. You know, the mouth can be a very nice tool for, ah touching.

Indeed? His laugh was a throaty chuckle as he slid his hand down her arm until he caught her hand. Then I opt for the mouth and tongue and every inch of your lovely flesh, he murmured.

Oh, oh, oh , so did she . Rachel sighed dreamily as he artfully moved her into the darkened bedroom and leaned her up against the wall. He braced his arms on either side of her, leaned in to kiss her, his tongue sweeping fully into her mouth, his lips firm and pliant on hers.

And just when she thought she would melt all over the carpet, he lifted his head. Stay right where you are, will you? He pushed away from the wall, walked to somewhere near the bed, and after a moment of fumbling about, the soothing sound of a piano filled the small room. He turned toward her, and in the light that spilled in from the adjoining room, she could see his face as he walked back to her, loosening his tie. It was an expression that sent the deepest of shivers of anticipation through her.

As he reached her, he casually put a finger under her chin, tilted her face up to his, and tenderly kissed her lips, soft and long, carefully shaping them, and desire began to pool in her groin. I should very much like to explore a bit of the Tantra with you, Rachel, he murmured. You in-spire that sort of thing in me. In fact, Im rather amazed by all that you inspire in me.

The sentiment was so unexpected and sweet that Rachel caught a breath in her throat as he stood there, admiring her body. It was the sort of sentiment she had heard expressed on the silver screen, on those nights she would sit alone in the familys little theater, watching romance movies alone while her sisters were out with their dates, leaving her to dream of someone to say those things to her.

This time, it was really happening to her. She had the gorgeous guy, and he had the words, and she had never in her life felt more emboldened or sexy or just plain horny as she did then.

And Rachel suddenly kissed him for it, flinging her arms around his neck, crushing up against him. Flynn caught her, put his arms around her, and held her tightly. She was vaguely aware that something in her had snapped; all the inhibitions, all the insecurities, went floating away on a cloud of lavender, and she no longer worried how she appeared, because she felt beautiful and desirable and sexy. She could think of nothing but Flynn, could see nothing, taste nothing, feel nothing but him. Her hands went to his face, her fingers light on the five oclock shadow, then spreading, to his ears, and the hair brushing his collar.

Flynn grabbed her wrist, pulled her hand from his face and pressed his lips to her palm, then began to pull her, while he walked backward, to the bed in the middle of the room. Rachel followed mindlessly, moving carelessly across the carpet, not really conscious of anything but Flynn, and hardly even noticing when she bumped up against the bed.

She laughed, lifted her face again, and touched her lips to the corner of his mouth.

Flynns hands were at her back, fumbling with the zipper of her dress. Rachel laughed against his mouth as he released her zipper. It was a strange sensation, to feel the cold air on her back at the very same time something had detonated white hot inside her.

His hands slipped inside her dress, big hands on the smooth skin of her back, a finger tracing the path of her spine. I think I rather like the Tantra thing, he said into her hair.

Tantra, witchcraftwhatever it was, Rachel liked it too. She felt impossibly alive; the energy surging through her was not of this earth. She lifted her hand to his silk shirt, deftly unbuttoning it. If you really want to know about Tantra, you must be completely naked, knickers and all.

That can definitely be arranged, he said as he lazily caressed her bare back. But what of you? If it is to work properly, mustnt you be naked, too?

As a jaybird, she emphatically assured him.

Flynn groaned, pressed his forehead to hers for a moment. Youve no idea how Ive longed for that, he said, and quickly shed his shirt.

He was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. His shoulders were broad, his arms thickly muscled, and his abdomen flat and trim.

Rachel closed her eyes; Flynn kissed her deeply as she blindly sought to unbuckle his belt and pull it free, then yanked the top of his trousers free. She unzipped his pants, felt the hard evidence of his lust for her beneath the fabric, and slipped two fingers inside his silk boxers, touching the tip of his penis.

Flynns body shuddered at her touch; he was suddenly working feverishly to have the dress off of her, alternately pulling it off and stroking every inch of her flesh, every curve, his mouth following closely, inhaling her skin.

Rachel realized she was working just as feverishly, her hands inside his shirt, feeling the rock-hard body of a strong man, and then clawing the garment off of him, desperate to feel his skin as he felt hers. When she had at last freed him of the shirt, her hands were everywhere, caressing him, gliding over his chest, stroking the soft down of hair trailing to his groin. She reveled in the feel of a man, a grown man, a man with substance to him, hard planes and ridges and softness all at once.

BOOK: Miss Fortune
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