Seducing the Wolf (11 page)

Feeling self-conscious, she dropped her hand from Manning’s face. Before she could step back, he drew an arm around her waist, keeping her close.

“Come on,” he murmured. “We’ve still got plenty to see.”

Their next destination was the Cecil B. Day Butterfly Center. The interior of the octagonal glass facility resembled a lush rainforest with an abundance of tropical plants and waterfalls. As Manning and Taylor entered the sun-warmed conservatory, she let out a soft little squeal, thrilled to see hundreds of butterflies flying through the air and flitting from flower to flower.

“Wow,” she breathed, looking around in fascination. “This is incredible.”

Manning smiled. “I thought you might feel that way.”

They began walking through the conservatory as a swarm of butterflies fluttered around them, a kaleidoscope of light and color set to an orchestra of beating wings.

“I’ve never seen so many of them in one place,” Taylor marveled.

“There are fifty species of butterflies housed here,” Manning said.

“Wow.”

Suddenly a silvery blue butterfly landed on Taylor’s nose. She went completely still, barely daring to breathe.

She and Manning stared at each other, both sensing the ephemeral magic of this moment.

The butterfly hovered on the tip of Taylor’s nose, delicately stretching its gossamer wings.

And then, in a blink, it was gone.

Taylor watched it soar away with a mixture of delight and melancholy.

She felt like she’d just experienced something rare and elusive, a precious gift she would cherish forever.

Like falling in love for the first time.

When her eyes met Manning’s, he smiled softly at her.

She smiled back almost shyly.

Taking her hand, he gently laced their fingers together. “Let’s get some lunch.”

Hours later, pleasantly exhausted from their exploration of Callaway Gardens, Taylor and Manning climbed into the backseat of his waiting limo and collapsed against the plush leather upholstery.

With a sigh of contentment, Taylor declared, “What a day.”

“Indeed,” Manning agreed, moving her bags of souvenirs so he could stretch out his long legs.

“I thoroughly enjoyed myself.”

“Good,” Manning said warmly. “I was hoping you would.”

“How could I not? Callaway Gardens is beautiful, utterly enchanting.” Again Taylor sighed, staring out the window as they left the sprawling forest preserve that was now shrouded in twilight. “I’ll have to come back before I leave town. But next time I’ll wear sneakers to better handle all that walking.”

“My bad,” Manning said sheepishly. “I should have warned you we’d be doing a lot of walking.”

Taylor smiled lazily. “That’s okay. I’m not complaining. I’m the one who refused when you suggested doing part of the tour by car. I’m used to trekking all over Paris. I just—” She broke off, her head swiveling on the seat when Manning picked up her legs and draped them over his lap.

Startled, she watched as he unfastened the small buckles on her flat sandals and gently removed them, his fingers brushing her ankles. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m gonna give you a foot massage,” he answered.

Her stomach quivered. “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she protested.

“I know I don’t. I want to.”

“But—”

“Relax. Let me do this for you.”

Any other objections she’d had instantly evaporated as he ran his fingertips along the soles of her feet, a featherlight caress that made her back arch with pleasure.

His eyes glinted at her. “Ticklish?”

Taylor shook her head, biting her lip.

He increased the pressure, using the pads of his thumbs to gently massage the soreness out of her feet. It felt so good, it was all she could do not to throw back her head and moan with guttural satisfaction.

“Your skin’s so soft,” he murmured appreciatively.

“Raw shea butter from West Africa,” Taylor managed in a shaky whisper. “Does wonders for natural hair and skin.”

“I’m sure it does,” Manning countered, his deep voice rumbling through his fingertips to flood her veins with heat. “But you’ve always had soft skin, Taylor. I’ve never forgotten that.”

This time she made no attempt to speak as his hands cupped her heels, rubbing and soothing them. She tried to focus on that one spot, tried to isolate it from the other sensations charging through her body as his skilled fingers slowly moved up to her French-pedicured toes.

“Soft skin,” he observed, “and beautiful feet.”

As he gently massaged her toes, Taylor clutched the edge of the seat, her fingers curling into the warm leather. Beneath her fitted skirt, her thighs were shaking and her clit was throbbing with arousal. She knew she should pull away from Manning and retreat to the safety of the other side of the limo.

But she couldn’t move.

Worse, she didn’t
want
to.

“How does that feel?” Manning murmured, watching her eyes slit halfway closed. “Does it feel good?”

Yessssss!
Taylor wanted to howl. Instead she just nodded and kept her legs tightly pressed together, all too aware of the growing dampness between her thighs.

Manning gave her a slow, lazy smile. “I really enjoyed spending the day with you. I’m looking forward to the next time.”

Taylor swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing as she stared at him. “Manning…I can’t…”

“Can’t what?” he challenged softly. “Can’t spend more time with me?”

“Yes. I mean…no…I can’t…” Her voice trembled, and she shook her head. “I shouldn’t.”

“But you will.” It wasn’t a request.

Taylor’s breath quickened as his hands slowly moved up her calves to her knees, then the outside of her thighs. The heat of his touch scorched her, deepening the ache between her legs and melting her resistance.

She stared into his darkening pupils, her heart galloping into her throat as he leaned close to her and whispered, “You will.” 

As her lips parted on a shaky breath, Manning slanted his head and sealed his mouth over hers. She shivered hard, electrified by the searing intensity of the kiss. His lips were firm yet incredibly soft, even softer than she’d remembered. And he tasted like heaven wrapped in decadent sin.

She moaned as he slid his tongue inside her mouth, tasting her with long, provocative licks that hardened her nipples and swelled her clit. When she sucked on his tongue, he growled deep in his throat and grabbed her hips, pulling her onto his lap. She gasped as her butt landed on the huge bulge of his erection.

He deepened the kiss, one hand cradling the back of her head while his other hand cupped her ass, holding her tight against his muscular body. As she wrapped her arms around his neck, she could feel his heart pounding against hers. Each savage beat echoed in the throbbing between her legs. She was mindless with need, beyond the reach of sanity or restraint.

As his tongue sensually stroked hers, she shifted in his arms to straddle his lap, planting her knees on either side of his hips. The stretchy fabric of her skirt rode up, pulling taut across her bare thighs.

“Jesus,” Manning swore, the guttural rasp of his voice sending chills down her spine.

He stared down at her parted legs, his eyes glittering fiercely, nostrils flaring. He looked like a ravenous wolf, and Taylor wanted nothing more than to be devoured by him.

He cupped her heavy breasts, stroking her nipples as they strained against her tank top. She reveled in his touch, craving it like nothing she’d ever craved before.

She watched as he lowered his head to her left breast. She felt the damp heat of his mouth and then cried out as he sucked her through the fabric of her shirt and bra, his teeth nipping and pulling at her tender nipple. She rocked her hips against him, shamelessly stroking herself with the hard length of his cock. When he groaned, she delighted in the primitive sound.

Her pulse raced as he reached under her skirt, kneading and caressing the backs of her legs. She trembled with anticipation as his hands moved slowly upward, teasing the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. She was all but panting by the time his fingers found the narrow bridge of her silk thong and flicked it aside.

Staring into her eyes, he gently rubbed the slick folds of her sex. She groaned, her fingernails digging into the thick muscle that padded his broad shoulders. She was glad that she’d kept her appointment for a Brazilian wax before she left Paris.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his heated gaze lowering to where he was touching her. “You’re wet for me, aren’t you, baby?”

“Yes,” Taylor breathed.

His dark eyes gleamed with feral satisfaction. Pressing his thumb against her hard clit, he pushed two fingers inside her.

Taylor arched backward as shocks of pleasure burst through her.

“
Manning
…” she keened as her muscles contracted around him. She was already on the brink of an orgasm.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Manning whispered, watching her as she began riding his long fingers. “So
fucking
beautiful.”

Drunk with ecstasy, Taylor let her head fall back as his thumb rubbed her clit in slow, sensual circles while his fingers thrust inside her. She moaned helplessly, palming her aching breasts and pinching her erect nipples through her tank top. She was burning up, her skin so hot and feverish she thought she’d spontaneously combust at any moment.

Staring intently at her face, Manning slid his fingers in and out of her pussy with the skill of a master pianist seducing the notes of Chopin’s Revolutionary Étude from his Steinway. Her back bowed as her hips circled frantically, pumping onto his hand.

Soon she was climaxing, caught in the grip of the most explosive orgasm she’d had in years. She cried out from the force of it, her muscles clenching fiercely around Manning’s stroking fingers.

He kissed her as she was convulsing, running his lips down her throat and over the swell of her cleavage.

As the violent spasms abated, she collapsed upon him, trying to catch her breath. He was breathing hard too, his broad chest heaving up and down beneath her cheek. He eased his fingers from her body and slipped them into his mouth, groaning thickly as he tasted her cum. The pure eroticism of the gesture made her stomach quiver.

She closed her eyes as he tenderly kissed her temple and rubbed her back.

Moments later, her eyes snapped open.

Lifting her head, she looked down at herself, at her skirt bunched around her waist, at her legs wantonly straddling Manning’s hips.

She looked up at his face, his lids at half mast, midnight eyes smoldering with lust.

Then she looked across the shadowy interior of the limo at the tinted privacy glass that separated them from the driver.

As a cold wave of shame slammed into her, she whispered hoarsely, “Oh, God.”

Manning frowned at her. “Taylor—”

She scrambled off his lap and scooted to the opposite end of the bench seat, tugging down her skirt with shaky hands.

“Taylor—”

“Please.” Her voice was low and strained. “
Please
don’t say anything.”

“I have to.”

“No, you don’t.”

Manning exhaled a heavy breath. “I don’t want you to feel bad about what just happened.”

“Why
shouldn’t
I feel bad?” Taylor countered, eyeing him incredulously. “I have a boyfriend—a man who loves and trusts me—and I just let you finger-fuck me in the backseat of your limo!”

“Don’t do that,” Manning warned in a low tone. “Don’t make it sound cheap and ugly. What we have has
never
been cheap or ugly.”

“ ‘What we have’?” Taylor repeated angrily. “We haven’t seen each other in over twenty years, Manning! We don’t
have
anything!”

“The hell we don’t,” he growled through clenched teeth.

Taylor held his flashing gaze for a moment, then looked down to where the fly of his pants strained against his raging erection. As her face flamed, she turned away to stare out the dark window, her chest heaving as she fought for composure. She wished they didn’t have an hourlong ride ahead of them. She wished they were already back in Atlanta, back at her hotel. She needed to get out of this limo. She needed to put this night—this dangerous encounter—in her rearview mirror.

Suddenly Manning was in front of her, kneeling on the floor with her sandals.

As he reached for her foot, she tensed. “I can do that.”

“I took them off,” he snapped. “I’ll put them back on.”

Taylor didn’t argue. She could feel the heat and frustration radiating off him, but his hands were gentle as he eased her feet into the sandals and carefully refastened the buckles, his touch sending goose bumps racing across her skin.

Sullenly she watched him, observing the sheer breadth of his wide shoulders and his powerfully muscled arms that only hinted at the brute strength he possessed. This wasn’t the sweet boy of her youth. This was a grown man who could make her lose control with one word, could make her come with just a kiss. This was a dominant alpha male who knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it.

“We have unfinished business, Taylor.”