Nice Girls Finish Last (6 page)

‘Lena,' he murmured, licking her from breast to breast with slow, teasing strokes, swirling around each taut peak. He liked that it was
him
rousing her this high, this intensely.

‘Mmm.' She was lost in sensation, unbelievably warm and responsive. Her hips rose, rotating—no longer merely inviting, but demanding. And he was powerless to deny that demand. He couldn't deny
himself.
The need to taste her, to satisfy her, overwhelmed him. Yeah, ecstasy was all she wanted—and that was what he wanted, too, right? Nothing could give him greater pleasure this second.

He grinned as he kissed down her torso. Her breathless cries increased—pace, volume, pitch as he neared her most sensitive part. He thanked the stars her desire had conquered her defences and she'd given in to the electricity between them.

His focus sharpened as he spread her wide and tongued her soft and then deep. Her thighs shook, her fingers clenched, her screams hoarse. Yeah, he wanted this and more. He gripped her harder. Her uninhibited response was stunning and made him push her beyond it. He kissed deeper, stroked, teased, twisted—everything and anything to make her convulse with ecstasy again and again.

When he finally rose to all fours, her eyes were closed but she had that smile on her face. He waited expectantly. Saw her shoulders lift just a little, and then it emerged. A couple of chuckles. Low and breathy but powerful enough to drive him crazy.

‘You're incredible,' he said, sliding his hand up her thigh with a strong, foreign feeling of possessiveness. He wanted to know more. She was an unpredictable enigma. He wanted to unwrap her—wanted to know why she was so hungry,
why she'd hesitated, why she'd done this with him and none of the others. Why she was famed for saying no when she clearly loved to say yes.

But first he wanted the rest of it.

Lena wriggled, restless for him to finally get that perfect piece of masculinity right into where she was wet and wanting and waiting. She'd had her orgasm—more than one—but it seemed they weren't enough. The ache inside could only be filled by finishing this off completely. And she wanted to see
him
finish.

She reached to hold his face between her palms, brought him down to kiss him. Her body rocked beneath his, begging for him to join with her. Passion overtook her initial tease. Suddenly wild again with need, she grabbed his tight butt and pulled him towards her, rubbing the head of his erection between her legs, and thrust her hips. ‘Condom!' She screamed her demand before she lost her mind completely.

Panting, he flung back onto his knees, fingers digging through the mess of material for his pocket and his wallet. Working fast to roll on the protection.

Impatiently she watched the play of muscles under his gleaming skin as he moved, drinking in the rush of his breath and the pent-up energy in his actions. She moved restlessly. She couldn't wait any longer. He glanced up and caught her—his eyes dark, fierce, more potent than any drug. Swiftly he arched, covering her body with his. Held fast by his intent gaze, she stilled for that magical moment before it all changed.

It blazed in his face a split second before he moved. Pleasure, such pure, profound pleasure.

She gasped, sucking in a deep breath that she held for ever as the incredible feeling of him rippled through her. She shook her head, shivering from the inside out, her body
convulsing with excitement. Through her fast-tunnelling vision she saw his hand clenching hard into a fist beside her. His knuckles marble white. She looked back up to his face and read the agony there, the painful determination to hold his control. Pure, power-filled delight bubbled from within, finding release in a breathy laugh. His tension broke and he smiled down at her. She bit her lip as the intensity within her sharpened to overwhelming and emotional. Her eyelids lowered—just enough for some respite from this attraction. He was so gorgeous and so focused on her and making her feel so good, it almost made her cry.

‘Don't stop.' His fingers teased her lightly under her jaw. ‘I like hearing you laugh.'

Oh, yes, he was nice. He moved and her split second of emotional hunger slipped as carnal delight resurged. She smiled but her laugh didn't sound, because just as it began he swooped to kiss her, breathing in her joy.

That kiss trebled her pleasure, and her eyes did water then as an intense feeling of happiness swamped her. She closed her eyes but opened deeper for him, arching, helplessly inviting him to share with her in a way she'd never shared with another. Purely physical, yes, but purely free.

He wrapped his arms around her, his hands firmly drawing her closer until they were locked in a snug embrace, skin to skin, pressed together from lips to toes. She clung, her arms crossed tight across his shoulders as he moved powerfully into her. But also, just holding
him.
Close and caring. She felt more caring, and more cared
for
than she'd ever expected she would from a brief encounter. Despite the driving passion, the blatantly basic attraction that had pulled them to this point so fast and so ferociously, he was tender. And so good. As he moved within her, watching her, ensuring she got the pleasure she sought, her feelings deepened—she softened, welcomed,
gave.
Some secret part of
herself slipped free, and in response he drew her ever closer, ever deeper, ever higher. His endurance overwhelmed her. Her hands slipped over the muscles working beneath the sweat-slicked skin of his back as he adjusted their position, increasing the pleasure of the friction between them, playfully rolling his hips.

Oh, the tease. The wonderfully wicked tease. So she teased back, drawing on feminine instinct. Trying a movement, a rhythm, a touch, a kiss—anything to tilt his control of their coupling. And it worked; she heard his gasp, felt his quiver and the resurgence of his muscles—his determination.

She smiled. She laughed. He growled.

And together they soared.

Her mind blanked, words meant nothing as touch spoke instead. The moment stretched with just the two of them in its rainbow bubble. She might have sighed, maybe screamed, she didn't know. Didn't care. All that mattered was the tumbling sensation, falling faster and faster until her consciousness was buried and all that remained was that emotion—happiness and completion and burning, blinding ecstasy.

T
HE
morning sun stabbed Lena's eyelids, demanding she open them. But there was no way she'd ever move again. Every muscle ached. Most especially her heart. Yes, now reality intruded. The doubts so easily silenced last night screamed now. And there was that soft part of her already whispering, wishing—because he'd been wonderful, so playful and passionate and tender.

She frowned, refusing to be weak. She was in control here and this was just the one night. She couldn't let herself think she cared for him just because he'd been nice to her in bed. She couldn't let herself think this could become anything more. To ensure that, she knew there couldn't be any further interaction between them. The knots in her tummy tightened as she shifted to test her body. She breathed in sharply, knowing she was going to have to force some greater effort shortly. While it had been the most amazing night of her life, there'd be no replay. He was gorgeous and generous. He was also a very successful, rich player—definitely not someone she should hang with for long. Dynamite didn't do duration. It went
boom,
then was over.

‘You even chuckle in your sleep, do you know that?'

Her muscles ignored her stern thoughts and warmed at his low tease. ‘Do I?' She frowned, trying to stop the melt. ‘Must have been a good dream.'

‘That's what I figured.'

Just a dream—this had to be treated as lightly and as gently as that. A bubble that would float on a gentle breeze, out of the window, beyond sight. She didn't want to burst it, so she'd have to tread carefully—but firmly all the same.

She twisted to face him. Her stomach knots headed north, causing an ache in the centre of her chest. Saying no was going to be hard enough already, but now she could see the sleepy-cum-saucy expression in his eyes. With his overnight stubble and his hair tousled—by her passionate hands—he was the epitome of the irresistible lover.

She forced herself to sit up. ‘I have to get going.'

‘It's early.' Deeper, sleep-rusted, his words made her bones quiver.

She steeled her muscles and slipped out of the bed, quickly covering herself with her robe despite the fleeting stiffness the movement caused. ‘I've got a lot to do. It's a busy time for the team. There's no such thing as an off-season.'

He rolled over, propped his head on his hand and managed to look even more the picture of morning-after wicked. ‘So no lazy lie-in and I'm guessing you don't want to go to a café for breakfast or anything before work?'

‘That's a nice idea,' she said crisply, turning away from him so she stayed on track. ‘But it can't happen, sorry.'

‘Can't happen today, or any other day?'

She froze, halfway across the floor to the door. He wasn't slow, was he? She inhaled and turned to face him. ‘Any other day. Sorry.'

He still lay reclined like a glorious bronze sculpture. ‘So that's it? You're giving me the boot? Going to make me do the walk of shame home?'

She wrinkled her nose. ‘Not the walk of shame.'

‘No?' he drawled. ‘You're not having some regrets right now?'

She blinked and then forced a smile, faking confidence in both her decision and her ability to enforce it. ‘Oh, no, I don't regret what happened at all. It was amazing. But…'

‘But it was just the one night.'

‘That's what we agreed,' she reminded him carefully.

‘And even though it was incredible, you want to stick to that plan.'

She paused, trying to dilute the wave of pleasure from hearing that he'd thought it was incredible, too. ‘That's right.'

‘Any particular reason?'

Was he disappointed? Wasn't this the usual modus operandi for him—easy come, easy go?

‘Seth.' She walked back to the bed and sat beside him, making the mistake of looking into his narrowed eyes. ‘Last night was like having this incredibly rich dessert. Really decadent and delightful but if you have too much…it's not good for you. You know?'

He silently looked at her, then swiftly sat up. The sheet dropped low to his hips. She mentally screamed at herself not to look down—but her peripheral vision was feasting anyway and she could feel her flush blooming.

He grinned and slipped his hand to the back of her neck to pull her close. She didn't resist. This was the goodbye. This was absolutely the goodbye kiss. And, hell, he knew how to do it. His lips teased hers, his tongue tormenting with the promise of that sweet, carnal seduction all over again. She leaned closer, opened deeper, the roughness of his stubble sending delicious shivers down her spine. Passion, hunger, heat grew. She slid her hands wide over his shoulders and arms, celebrating his hot skin and the hard strength beneath. Her will weakened, almost dissolving completely in his fire.

He drew back, delight shining in his eyes and smile. ‘How can too much of that
not
be good for you?'

She focused on regulating her breathing and restoring calm to her seriously overwrought system. ‘Some things,' she said carefully, ‘are best just left. You know?' This was definitely best left—for so many reasons. It had to stay as a fantasy. One that was finished.

Now both his smile and eyes widened as silently he studied her expression. She toughened up under the scrutiny—determined not to reveal her weakness. Determined to
beat
her weakness. He knew how to play it—he'd just tried already. So she didn't move a muscle as he stroked down her jaw with the back of a finger.

‘You're very strong,' he murmured. ‘What made you so strong?'

‘Nothing very exciting.' She stood and walked away, trying to ignore the memories that ripped the scab from her heart and scalded her with hot, acidic guilt. They killed the temptation to succumb to him again. ‘But once my mind is made up, it's made up.'

‘Yeah,' he said, flopping back onto the pillow, his smile sounding. ‘I can see you've got your game face on.'

She walked out of the bedroom before that mask slipped and revealed her true feelings. That stupid desire for
more
—the more that she'd never get from a guy like him. She wasn't going to waste time and emotional energy getting involved any further with someone who'd never offer what she really wanted. She'd done that once—spectacularly trashing her own life and hurting so many others. So why would she walk into another dead-end situation with her eyes wide open? There was nothing wrong with ‘right now' but, as their ‘now' had passed, there was no future.

He appeared, dressed but dishevelled. Looking just like the wild night he'd had and so gorgeous she went
weak-kneed. Yes, there was that other problem—like suited like and Seth belonged to a different league from her. She didn't want to sit around waiting for the next woman to come along and outclass her.

‘You want something to eat before you go?' She used the kitchen bench and the jug of hot coffee in her hand for defensive distance. Stopping herself from moving towards him.

That teasing smile tweaked his lips. ‘No, I can see you're busy. I'll let you get on.'

She nodded, relieved he was now making this easy. Of course, he was a pro at everything women-related and clearly her calling time didn't bother him all that much. Another sign she was doing the right thing. ‘Thanks for dinner and…everything,' she finished. So lame, she wanted to slither behind a rock somewhere.

‘My pleasure. I had an amazing time,' he said easily.

But she heard bucketfuls of irony. She blushed—ridiculous considering everything they'd done. But he seemed so amused, and now the sunlight was streaming through the window the glare hurt her eyes. ‘You won't say—'

‘Just between us,' he interrupted carelessly. ‘We both know that.'

‘Great,' she said with masses more chirp than she felt. ‘Well, thanks again.'

She saw the flash as his amusement deepened but then he turned. And that was it. He was out of the door before she got there to wave goodbye as a polite hostess ought to. She was frozen behind the bench, hot jug in hand, staring into the space he'd left behind.

 

Seth walked out of her house, got into his car and started driving. Out of earshot, his grin gave way to the full-body laugh he'd been holding back the last ten minutes. She
wasn't used to the one-night scene or she'd have a more polished boot-him-out routine. She'd twisted up and iced over—spoiling her attempt to pull off a relaxed, sophisticated flick-off. But it was interesting that she wanted him out, and he believed that on one level she meant it when she said she didn't want more. But she did—he'd felt it when he'd kissed her. She'd responded so wonderfully, as she had throughout the night. She hadn't been exaggerating when she'd told him she wanted a good time, but she hadn't been completely selfish. She'd delighted in touching as much as she had in taking. Only, now her hedonistic moment had passed, she was back to the woman who said no.

Usually after a night or two of fun, Seth was ready to move on himself, but he and she definitely weren't yet done. Last night had merely been the preliminary and there'd be ten rounds in this ring. At least.

His phone beeped and he glanced at the screen. A drop of guilt slid like poison under his skin when he saw who the message was from. He was due to meet Andrew this afternoon and he'd promised he'd have a solution. He drew breath, telling himself that his selfish pleasure-seeking moment wouldn't have messed up the charity's chances for the following week. Lena would agree—in fact, Seth could use their tryst to his advantage, right? He could, of course, always buy their way into another sports club for the programme. If he had to he would, because he wasn't letting Andrew and the boys down. Except he wanted to be with the Knights next week, to be at the stadium as much as possible. Because he wanted Lena Kelly to have to say yes. Again. And then again.

He pulled in to his apartment and headed straight for the shower. He'd freshen up and then go in for the fight. Under the steaming jet of water he mulled over the possibilities, formulating a strategy that would see all his problems
solved—an inspirational activity for the boys and Lena back in bed with him ASAP.

She might have cheated him out of the chase before, but it was all on now.

 

For the first time ever Lena was late to work—only by five minutes—but given she was usually there at least an hour early it was notable. This morning she'd stood so long in the shower it wasn't just her fingers and toes that had turned into prunes, but her face, as well. Or maybe the sour expression was because she was in an extremely bad mood—with herself.

She shouldn't have done it. Not that it was sleeping with him that she regretted, but her wistful aftermath. She wished she could have gone to breakfast with him at a café, wished she could have showered with him, wished she could have played more with him. Wished he'd want more from her. She wished she were a different person.

Yeah, the more she truly wished for, was from herself.

But while she was trying, some things weren't going to change, so there was no point in
wishing.
Instead she cleared her inbox, determined to finish even one job so she'd feel as if she'd accomplished something and was in control of her morning—and of herself. But it was an effort to keep her thoughts on task and she fiercely fought to focus. To help, she put on some music—letting the rhythmic beat be her lead. The one song on repeat became like white noise in the background, a cue for her brain to concentrate.

She finally got into the rhythm of it, her fingers typing and her head nodding in time, her emotions at ease, letting her brain work through each message. She paused, fingers above the keyboard as she framed the wording of her current email, and glanced away from the screen.

She jerked, doing a double take at the tall figure in her doorway.

Her heart leapt; she tried to suppress her gasp but all the effort did was make her breathless. ‘What are you doing here?'

She had no idea how long he'd been standing there. She had no idea why he was standing there. But her whole body reacted, her numbed nerves screamed back to life—an instant inferno of surprise, embarrassment and that
uncontrollable
desire.

‘Stalking you.' His smile was too easy.

Her heart galloped like trapped wild horses who'd just found a gap in the fence. Was he here to ask her out? She was so surprised and thrilled and flustered. ‘I—I thought we agreed—'

‘Don't worry, I was kidding,' he interrupted, walking across to her desk and taking the seat opposite in far too relaxed a fashion. ‘There was a misunderstanding yesterday. I wasn't here to see Dion, I came to see you.'

‘Me?' Suspicion sharply squeezed her heart. ‘Why?'

‘We probably should have discussed this sooner, but I got…distracted.'

What should they have discussed? She swallowed, suddenly nervous. She refused to think about how he'd got distracted. She refused to think about how dazzling he looked in the tailored suit. How his slightly damp hair was rumpled, reflecting that hint of wicked playfulness she knew was a mere scratch below his surface. She refused to think about how much she wanted to touch him.
Now.

He sat back in the chair, his gaze dropping to her scrupulously tidy desk. ‘I'm involved with an organisation that helps at-risk youth. Teen boys mainly, who have had a couple of brushes with the law, who have high truancy
levels. Kids who need some guidance and inspiration to stick to a straighter path.'

Lena's blood chilled as her heart shrank. She waited, knowing he was about to ask her for something and that it wasn't going to be personal. The man had an agenda. He'd had one the whole time.

His lashes lifted and his blue eyes were cool, his voice measured. He was clearly having no trouble focusing—a little fact that stung her already oversensitive nerves.