Sweet Little Lies (5 page)

I
t was all I could do not to grope her in the cab like a teenager. The ride was less than three minutes, but it felt like we were moving in slow motion. When the cab finally stopped, I flung money at the driver, hopped out, and dragged Christina along behind me. I was a man on a mission.

The elevator came immediately.After she pushed the button for the twentieth floor, I backed her into the corner, lifted her up and pressed against her. With my hands under her thighs, I held her open and ground gently against her with my hips moving in a slow circle—once, before easing back. Just as gently, I bit down on the pulsing vein in her neck and licked once and then twice. She squealed.

“You’re killing me.That feels incredible. Do it again.” She breathed out. Her head was flung back and her breath came quickly.

“As much as you can take.That’s all for you, baby.Whatever you want, whatever you need.” My vocabulary had turned to Marvin Gaye love-speak and I didn’t care. As the bell dinged
and the doors slid open, I set her down reluctantly, so she could dig out her room key.

“Room 2018.” She handed me the key and turned hastily to the left.

We got there quickly. I opened the door, ushered her in, and paused.Whatever came next was her decision.

Tossing her tiny purse toward the desk, she launched herself at me with a decision apparently made. Catching her at her waist, I lifted her easily. Her long legs wrapped around my hips. Pivoting, I braced her against the door and hitched my hips closer. I was steel against her softness, and the air around us heated up a few degrees.We were sloppy and eager.Tongues roaming, hands sliding, moaning and gasping for air. I wanted to touch her everywhere, all at once, as soon as possible. Her tiny shifts and breathy moans told me she felt the exact same way. I just knew I wanted more Christina right now. But I’d made a sorta kinda promise at the beginning of the evening. Reluctantly, I stilled my hands and hips, untangled thighs and lips, eventually slowing to a stop. Placing my hands on her waist, I set her down.

Backing up a step, I rested my forehead against hers and waited until she opened her eyes. Her lids came up slowly and I gave her a chance to decline.“Christina, yes or no?”

She closed her eyes for a second and smiled slightly.When she reopened them, the answer was right there swimming in the chocolate depths, but still I needed the words.“Christina? You have to say it.”

“Yes. Please.And the sooner the better, thank you.”

Good words and definitely the ones I wanted to hear.With those words, the mood shifted from frantic and urgent to slow and sensual. I slid my hands from the small of her back around to the swells of her breasts, stroking softly before moving along to the curve of her rear. She sighed against my lips and looped
her hands around my neck. Even in high heels she barely came to my shoulder. I pulled her in close, wanting to feel as much of her against me as possible. She was soft, warm, and smelled faintly of vanilla frosting.

As if still dancing, we turned and stepped in unison toward the bed. Dipping her backwards slowly, I followed her down and took a minute. I was horizontal on a bed in New York with Christina Brinsley. It felt good. I looked down at her face. She had a faintly dreamy smile floating around the edges of her lips, her eyelids were at half-mast, but the expression in them caught and held me. A combination of trust and admiration with a sprinkle of excitement and a lot of desire; it was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. My voice was husky as I voiced my thought. “I’m glad we’re doing this, but don’t thank me yet. It’s about to get a whole lot better.”

“Cocky young thing, aren’t you?” she teased, but I saw that pulse at the base of her neck flutter faster.

“You tell me later if I’ve earned it or not, okay?” Sliding down the zipper of her dress, I reminded myself to go slow.To savor.To seduce. As I brought my hand around to release the front clasp on her bra, she caught my hand.

“Just so we’re clear—this is just a thing, for the moment … right?”

“Definitely. You’re heading back to the Bay. I’m staying here.”

“No muss, no fuss.”

“No victim, no crime. No harm, no foul.” However many ways she wanted me to say it, I would.

“Still not a date.”

“Clearly not. May I continue?”

“Please do, Mr.Williams.”

I peeled back her clothes and undergarments as if unwrapping a valued gift, stopping to tease, taste, and touch along the
way. Her breathy sighs turned to throaty moans as I discarded her lacy panties and explored the liquid warmth waiting for me there. Parting her slowly, I replaced my fingers with my mouth. Before I could relish her flavor, her nails dug into my back.“Steven!”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve no need of teasing foreplay…seriously. I’m good.”

“You’re very good but—” My words strangled in my throat as she reached between us to stroke me determinedly. Before I could finish my sentence, my pants were unzipped and shoved downward.“I wanted to go slow.”

“Next time.”

“Next time? I thought we were for the moment.”

“Steven, you want to debate my word choice or do you want to get naked and do this?”

When she put it that way …“Let’s do this.”

“Baby, I’m waiting on you.” Her eyes glinted challenge.

I was up to it. Quickly, I stepped back and sent my clothes flying, keeping my eyes on her. Damn, she looked good. She lay on the bed in nothing but those sky-high sandals. I fished a condom out of my wallet before I flung my pants to the side. “Christina,” I said as I rolled the condom on.

She watched me with a hunger that made my hands shake a little.“Hmm?” Now she was the one with her eyes glued on me.

I repositioned her on the bed. Standing over her, I slid a finger and then a second between her legs to test her readiness. Her groan and her heated moisture told me she was ready. Lying over her I slid forward, slowly breaching her opening and sinking deep. She was snug, pulsing and warm. We both groaned and shuddered. Her arms and legs came up to pull me closer. I sunk in a little deeper.“In case I forget to tell you …”

“Yes?” She shifted slightly and squeezed her internal muscles around me.

I sucked in a breath and had to concentrate on what I was trying to say.“In case I forget to tell you later … this is the best non-date I’ve ever had.” I slid back a little bit and sunk back in, rotating my hips.

“Umm, Steven—shut up and don’t date me some more.”

I shut up and got down to business.

I
t took me a second to figure out where I was when my eyes opened. Squinting against a bright light, I blinked a few times. I was naked, in bed, in a hotel room. I blinked some more to focus. I was… in New York City. I turned my head. For the second time in as many days, I found myself waking with my head on Steven’s shoulder and my hand on his …oh! That was not his chest—considerably south of that but also with a pulse of its own. I started to lift my hand away when his hand covered mine.

“It’s okay, baby, leave it there,” he said in a deep and sleepy voice.

It was the exact same thing he had said yesterday. “Déjà vu?”

“This is much, much better.” He kissed my forehead.

I lifted my gaze to meet his.“Hey, you.”

“Hey.Are you freaking out yet?” He traced his index finger along my hairline and down my cheek.

“Should I be?” Really, I was more worried about what my hair looked like.

“We had dinner, we went dancing, we…”

“Burned up some sheets?” Casually, I stroked upward with my hand. I loved the heavy weight of him. He was long, thick, and smooth.Amazing how much pleasure those inches of flesh could provide. Stroking down and back up, I smiled with the memories of the night. He twitched, growing firmer and warmer in my hand. Fascinated, I squeezed along every inch from base to tip and flicked lightly across the head with my thumb.

“Dear God, that’s good.You have the hands of a…anyway, yes, we set the sheets aflame. Three times at my last count. I think we broke all your non-date rules.” His finger moved down the side of my neck to my shoulder.

“Are you in love with me?” I shivered a little at his touch, switching strokes to teasing flicks with my fingertips.

He pulled in a deep breath as his finger slid from my shoulder to my chest. “I’m in love with your left hand right now.That’s all I can attest to.”

“Well then, I think we’re still okay. It’s only the men who profess to love me that cause me problems.” I slowed my tempo to match his lazy touches.

“Are you in love with
me?
” His finger grazed my right nipple as if by accident and then circled, pressed, and moved to the left.

“There are a few parts of you that I am growing mighty fond of.” I slid on top of him and looked my fill. He was smooth muscles covered with honey-kissed skin. He was long lines and aroused-male scent. I sat up, wriggling my hips a little.

“You better watch yourself, girl.You are asking for it.”

“I just might be.Are you going to give it to me?”

He put his hands on my hips and arched up. I was so liquid, his hardness slid back and forth making wet noises.“Only if you ask me nicely.”

I leaned down and sucked his bottom lip into my mouth. “Steven, I’m wet.”

“I noticed that.”

“I’m wet, I’m sticky, my hair is all over my head, I don’t know what kind of breath I’m working with, and I quite frankly need to pee.”

He went completely still for a second and then dissolved into laughter. I joined him for a second and then climbed off him and out of the bed. Still giggling, I ran to the bathroom and shut the door, taking care of business before stepping up to the sink. Flicking on the light, I looked into the mirror.

“Ahh!” I screamed at my reflection. Last night’s curly do was a frizzy fro.We’re talking eighties Chaka Khan hair.What was left of my mascara was ringing under my eyes in splotches. Speaking of eyes, mine were of the bloodshot variety.

“You look fine!” he shouted from the bedroom.

“Fine for roadkill,” I muttered. Grabbing emergency hair serum and a brush, I tamed the beast and twisted it into a tight bun. I brushed my teeth and scrubbed my face. I opened the door a crack and announced, “I’m going to take a shower.” Shutting the door, I switched on the tap and set the shower temperature to a shade below scalding. Grabbing a washcloth and a bottle of body wash, I climbed in the shower.

A minute later I heard the door open. “Do not be offended. I have to pee.”

“Do what you need to do.” A flush later and the curtain opened.

“You know New York City is under strict water conservation laws.”

“I think I read that somewhere.”

“You would only be doing your civic duty to share the water.”

“Far be it from me to shirk my civic duty. Come on in.” He climbed in behind me and I saw him place a foil packet on the soap ledge.“You need an umbrella in the shower, S. Dub?”

“I am just that civic-minded, Ti-Ti.” He took the washcloth from my hand, knelt down, and began to lather me in stroking circles. He started at my feet and ankles and worked his way up the front, down the back, and along my sides. By the time he stood back behind me, I was a panting bundle of nerves and sensations. He adjusted the spray to hit the side wall and whispered,“Lean forward.”

“Oh my God,” I breathed, leaning forward and bracing my arms on the tile in front of me. The sound of the foil packet tearing took what was left of my breath away. I closed my eyes, widened my stance, and waited for his entry. Instead of the gentle, incremental slide I was used to, he slammed into me, filling me deep and quick in one confident stroke. I screamed out and my knees buckled.

“I got you,” he said, holding me around the waist. “You okay?”

“Do it again.” Pulling all the way out, he slammed back in, touching places I did not know existed.

“Just like that?”

“Again,” I whispered, needing everything he had to give me. He stroked again and again, somehow with different angles and depth. With his free hand, he reached up and flicked that long finger against my sensitive nipple. It was more than I could take. With a sharp, keening cry, I exploded, and wave after wave poured through me. Unsteadily, I pushed his arms from around me, turned and dropped to my knees. Before he knew what I had in mind, I took him in my mouth and sucked.

“Oh, sweet mother of …Oh.” He swore under his breath and locked his knees as I used my mouth to express my appreciation for his talent and attention to detail. With a free hand, I cupped him and squeezed while still applying suction. That’s all it took. He moaned low and long, threw back his head, and released. I stroked him through it and just as he was finishing, I sucked one more time. “Christina!” He gave up a little more
before I let him go. He sunk down to the tub floor next to me. “Wow.”

“Exactly,” I responded without meeting his eyes.

He sighed and leaned his forehead against mine.“What is it now?”

I shrugged and whispered,“How did you know?”

“What? That you would like it like that?”

I nodded.

“I see the depths in you. You aren’t near as buttoned-up and proper as you would have people think.”

Humph. This guy knew more about me in thirty-six hours than my three idiot fiancés had figured out in years. That was scary.

He stood up and dragged me along with him.“So now are you freaking out?”

Again, he was too damn intuitive. I didn’t say anything and reached for the washcloth.

“‘Cause I’m still not in love with you and this is still not a date.”

“What is it, then?”

“Depends.Are you kicking me out after this shower, or can a brother finally get an omelet?” His tone was light and unconcerned.

I enjoyed his ability to defuse my neuroses with humor. I followed his lead and responded lightly. “You are go for omelets.”

“Then this is a weekend fling.”

“I don’t leave until Tuesday night.” Oops. Now that sounded like I wanted him to stick around until Tuesday.

He laughed.“Then this is a five-day fling. After which we kiss and say good-bye. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”