The Bet (5 page)

“Something's growing,” she said, pressing against his erection. “And your butterfly's getting buttery.”

“Between your legs, I'm surprised it's not melting.”

“I'm melting.”

“Hello, Zoe. Good-bye, Ice Queen.”

The music slowed, and he pulled her fully against him. Her breasts pressed tightly against his chest, his arms were around her waist, his hands on her ass. She could feel his erection between her thighs. As she put her arms around him, he bent his head down and began to nibble her ear. The moment felt surreal. Surrounded by people, she felt totally alone with him. She felt like she was part of him.

When the butterfly began to flutter again, she whimpered, but only he heard it.

“I've got you,” he whispered in her ear. And he did. The pad of his thumb caressed the outermost edge of her breast, and Zoe felt the burning pulse between her thighs grow. When he captured her lips in his, he took her breath away. Every last inch of her seemed to belong to him. In front of all the other dancers, she came. Violently. If she hadn't been in his arms, she would have crumpled on the dance floor.

“I've got you,” he repeated.

P
ropped against him in the cab, Zoe supposed she ought to feel anxious. They were going back to his place. They'd be alone. There'd be a bed.

But she'd learned a lot about Phillip Kingdom in the last few hours, and some of those things surprised her. She'd thought he'd be arrogant. Instead he treated her kindly, respectfully. He'd opened doors for her that she'd thought had no keys, and he did it while leaving her spirit unbruised. No, she didn't feel nervous. If she were honest with herself, she felt excited.

Her put his arm around her, and pulled her in closer to him. “It'll take a few minutes to get home. Why don't you close your eyes?”

Comfortable. Inhaling his masculine scent, she drifted to sleep.

 

In what seemed like a heartbeat later, they arrived at his brownstone. Groggily, she followed him up the steps. He unlocked the door, put the oil and butterfly on an end table and flicked on the light. He gently ushered her to the living room.

“Here. Sit down. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“No. Sweaty. Stinky. I smell like cigarettes.”

“That last club was pretty thick.”

“And I'm all . . . sticky.”

He chuckled. “That's not a bad thing. Wait here.”

He disappeared into the kitchen, and this time, she noticed his décor. Maple floors. A thick wool rug with a Southwestern design. Stone fireplace. Nice.

“This place really captures your personality,” she said when he returned.

“What do you mean?”

“Rugged. Masculine.”

“I'm so rugged. Herbal tea?”

She laughed as he handed her a steaming mug.

“Oh, that's good,” she said, after a cautious taste. “We kind of went on the alcoholic tour of the city tonight.”

“I think the booze was secondary. Or maybe tertiary.”

“Can you spell that?”

“Not with you sitting in front of me.”

She ran her hand self-consciously through her hair.

“No, really. You look like a wild mountain pony.”

She laughed, but his mood had intensified.

“Lean back, Zoe, and give me that ‘come hither' look.”

Still playful, she lounged into the corner of his sofa, half closed her eyes, and she licked her lips. “Like this?”

“Oh God yes, like that. Rachel Hunter. Not Heidi. Poor Heidi doesn't hold a candle to you.”

“Oh please. She's a supermodel.”

“Let go of your knees.” She'd had her hands clasped in front of them, but she released them. Suspecting she knew where this was going, edgy excitement expanded in her belly.

“Pull up your dress, just a little. I want a peak.”

She inched it up, swallowing her pride.

“A little more.”

She did.

“You are so beautiful. Spread your legs, just a little.”

“This is—”

“Breathtaking. Spread them more.”

She widened her knees a smidge.

“Zoe.” Disappointed.

She opened them more. “Phillip—”

“Shh. How can you object? I'm not even touching you.”

Her sex must have glistened with the slippery wetness since each command torpedoed her clit with excitement. She felt like she was under a magnifying glass—that he could see her entire self. Disconcerting as that was, her belly tightened further with desire.

“Look me in the eye and stroke yourself. Show me how you like it.”

“I don't
know
what I like.”

“Then discover it.”

She reached down to touch the delicate vee of soft curls, and with her other hand, she spread her labia with two fingers.

She heard him moan and moaned herself.

Glide.

Had she ever been this wet? Surely her clit had never been this swollen. Hot. Wet.

She didn't get far into her exploration. “I can't stand it—I can't keep my hands off you.” Phillip crossed the room in two great strides and buried his face between her legs. She gasped and quickly removed her hand, but he grasped it and mumbled, “You do this, too.”

His tongue ran the length of her and accompanied her fingers as they circled around her clit. He sucked carefully on her clit, and flicked his tongue. She couldn't tell which sensations were caused by him and which by her.

His hands reached up to find her breasts. Rough fingers caught her nipples, pinched and rolled them into hard, tingling tips.

A sudden hard suck brought her to the brink. She flexed her hips toward him, unable—no, unwilling—to hold back one more second. He sucked again—and she saw stars, fireworks, explosions.

She felt her muscles throb and pulsate, reaching for something that wasn't there. She gasped at the intensity, amazed at her body.

She fell back into the sofa, stroking his hair. He climbed completely onto the sofa, leaving his head on her lap. Within moments she was asleep.

 

Brilliant golden light filled the unfamiliar room, and Zoe woke to the feel of Phillip's muscled chest pillowing her head and the repetitive stroking of his hand on her hair. Soothing. She felt safe. He must have carried her upstairs last night.

His hot erection throbbed against her hip, distracting her. She blinked in the morning sunshine, surprised at the heat flooding through her.

“I thought moonlight really became you, but you look great in the sunshine, too.” Arousal roughened his voice to a husky velvet drawl.

He flexed his powerful body, and Zoe could see just how well-muscled he was. Could she really have spent last night like she did and never have seen his chest? He was long and lean, that she'd known. But his thighs and arms and pecs looked like those of a cyclist or diver. Or a fencer. Gorgeous.

He moved, and she found herself underneath him. She blinked as he loomed above her, staring into her face. The urgent lust she'd seen throughout the night now mingled with something else. Tenderness? Affection? She blinked again.

Lifting a hand, Phillip gently drew it through her hair, combing the strands over the pillow. His absorbed gaze flicked over her hair and then rested again on her face.

“Before last night, I had no idea your hair was this long.”

He definitely had a tender expression, and Zoe felt her stomach spiral. She stroked his chest, wordlessly.

“The bathroom's over there,” he said, rolling off her and the bed.

Reality check. “I, um—I forgot to bring overnight things.” It wasn't the sort of thing that would normally slip her mind. “I guess I was nervous.”

“Don't worry. I've got you covered.”

“Uncovered?”

“We'll get to that.”

The promise sent a chill through her. It was a good chill.

“I bought a toothbrush for you. It's on the counter in there.”

“Pink?” She sat on the edge of the bed rubbing her eyes.

He chuckled. “Of course.”

“I wouldn't have thought you so predictable, Kingdom.”

“I'm full of surprises.”

“Ha, ha.” Facing him, she stood and stretched, raising her arms high above her and arching her back. “Predictably full of surprises.”

“You're quite the tease this morning.”

“I learned from the master. Where'd you say the bathroom was?”

“Over there,” he pointed. “Are you a size seven?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I bought the right size.”

“You planned this better than I did.” The fact that he bought clothes for her last week made her feel . . . well, she didn't know how she felt. It was strange to know that he'd been thinking about such personal details.

“I can be an optimist, too,” he said, staring at her ass.

The jade and copper bath complemented him as well as the living room did. The man had great taste. Zoe started the water running in the oversized shower and brushed her teeth. Waiting for the water to get hot, she looked in the mirror. She looked different. She looked again. What was it?

Then she realized . . . it'd been a long time since she'd seen her own smile in the mirror.

She stepped into the steaming water and let it sluice over her back. God, it felt good. She rolled her head one way and then the other. Just as she reached for the soap, she heard the door open.

“You a breakfast person, Zoe?”

“Depends what's on the menu.”

“Great,” he said, entering the bathroom and closing the door behind him. “I am.” Seconds later he was in the shower with her. He took the soap from her and began to wash her back.

“You got pretty dirty last night.” Erotic tension laced his voice. He slid his sudsy hands over her ass and down her thighs.

“I only followed your lead.” No trace of guilt in her tone.

He slid over her calves and over that soft spot behind her knees. Had anyone ever touched her there before? “Mmm. That feels great.”

He took the shampoo from the shelf, poured some in his hand, and lathered her hair. Gently, competently, like she was a child. He positioned her under the nozzle and carefully rinsed her hair, taking care to keep the soap from her eyes. It made Zoe feel . . . what? Cherished. She'd never had anyone wash her hair before, outside of the salon.

“Turn around.” Husky. Thick.

Glycerin masked the roughness of his palms as he glided around her neck, over her stomach, over her breasts. He spent long moments on them, slithering over one nipple and then the other. Within seconds, she was ready for him. “Oh, Phillip. You feel so good.”

She couldn't take her eyes off his huge erection, imagining the heat of it under her lathered hand. He pressed a nipple and it sprang to attention. She let out another moan of desire.

“Isn't my time with you up yet?”

“You don't feel like you're in a hurry to leave.” He slithered a hand between her thighs and grinned as she gasped. “You're still mine for a while.”

He kissed her then, a hot and wicked kiss. Which she returned with a wickedness of her own. Breathless, she took the soap from him. “Can I wash you?”

“Not until the third date,” he answered with husky humor. “Until noon you have to obey me. Now hold still.”

He grabbed shaving cream from the shelf.

She thought of his face between her thighs. “How courteous of you.”

“This isn't for me—it's for you. I already shaved.”

Her? She didn't need a shave. “I don't un—”

He lathered the nest between her legs, and suddenly she understood. She'd thought he was through with the orders and commands. “Do you really need to do this?”

“Hold still,” he said, positioning the razor as he kneeled before her. “I need a steady hand, and you have a way of making me shake.”

He made her tremble, too.

The first slide of the razor felt cold, and on the second slide, he let his pinky glide over her clit. “Wait,” she said. “I don't want to fall.” She carefully shifted her legs farther apart.

He groaned appreciatively and said, “You like this.”

“Conceited thing. The floor is slippery.”

He flicked his tongue quickly over her clit, and said, “You're slippery.” He shaved another swath and said, “Tell the truth. Did you move your legs apart because you want me?”

“Maybe.”

“God, I hope so,” he said, burying his face.

O
ut of the shower, he toweled her dry, patting her carefully from ankles to ears. “Put your hair up, please.”

She twisted it back into a damp bun. Raising her arms, she saw his gaze grow hot as he watched her breasts. A pleasurable feeling of power coursed through her—he wanted her, she wanted him. She couldn't wait to discover what erotic adventure he had planned this time. He'd barely touched her, and yet she ached for him.

She realized that at some point during the evening, her brain had shifted gears. She no longer felt like an object of his lust. She didn't feel used—she felt like a partner in delicious, beautiful crime.

“Come back into the bedroom.” She followed him, sauntering, and he positioned her a few feet from a full-length mirror. He had slipped on a pair of red silk boxers.

“Wait here. You can touch yourself, if you want.”
Yeah, right.
She heard him step downstairs. She looked at her shaved area and was surprised to see that her clit actually peaked out. The haircut made her whole body look different, thinner somehow. She ran her palm over the bald patch. Her clit was so much more easily available, inviting a touch, a suck.

“I knew you couldn't keep your hands off yourself.” He sounded pleased with himself.

She whipped her finger off her clit, but it was too late. She pushed her mild embarrassment to the far back of her mind. “You snuck up those stairs, didn't you?”

“Don't feel badly. I can't keep my hands off you either.”

“Hmmh.” The playful look in her eye belied her annoyed reply.

He shrugged, grinning. “I needed the oil.” He turned the brown bottle upside down and poured some into his palm. “Watch in the mirror,” he said.

At first she couldn't see anything. Standing behind her, he started on her shoulders. “I didn't want to get any in your hair,” he explained, rubbing oil into her shoulders. The cinnamon scent swirled and tickled her nose. He worked his way down her back, skillfully massaging the muscles over and between her shoulder blades.

“This would feel better if I were on the bed.”

“So eager for me?” he chuckled.

Surprise, she realized she was.

He oiled the spot just above her ass. “Just wait.” His slippery fingers quickly slid over her most private entrance, and she gasped in shocked surprise. In the mirror she saw that her nipples were tautly erect.

“My God,” she breathed.

“Stand still.”

“I don't know if I can.” She swallowed. “My knees . . .”

He stood behind her, closer now. She could feel his erection pressing against her ass through his silk shorts. The heat of it permeated the cloth.

He poured more oil into his palms and ran them over her stomach. She looked in the mirror and saw that famished black-wolf look in his eye. He roughly massaged her breasts, pushing them together, making her seem much more voluptuous than she was. Watching his capable hands mold her breasts into such erotic positions, she couldn't believe it was her.

In the mirror, their gazes met. Both smoldered. He surrounded her. Everything she had, he could touch, suck, caress. And she wanted him to.

When his hand ran over the newly shaved area, Zoe moaned and dropped her head back against his shoulder. When his hand slid between her thighs and his talented fingertips slithered over her clit, she knew she'd do whatever he asked.

“No, not here. Get into bed.”

She staggered toward it, and put her head on the pillow.

“Have you finally lost your need to control everything?” he whispered.

Incapable of speech, only a small sound came from the back of her throat. She ached for his touch. “I want you, Phillip.”

“Remember,” he said softly. “I give the orders.” He straddled her and gathered her wrists. Somehow, he grabbed a silken cord, and he tied her hands to the headboard.

“I'll do whatever you want.”

“Have you realized yet how liberating it is to have all choices made for you? I want your complete surrender, Zoe. I want all of you.”

She lifted her wrists so he could more easily tie them.

He sat back and looked at her. A tantalizing finger traveled over her stomach and hip. “If you knew what you looked like—oiled, shaved, ready, willing . . .”

He ran his fingers over her pubic area, luxuriously letting the tips bump over her swollen clit. She groaned, “Please . . .” But not even she knew what she begged for.

Slowly, slowly, he traveled up to her breast. Feather light, he touched a nipple. As it hardened, he rolled it between his fingertips until she arched her back. It didn't take long. When he grabbed it between his teeth, she arched even more, begging him with her body to satisfy her.

With his mouth on her breast, he used his hand to nudge her thighs apart. She responded by opening them widely. How had she ever lived without this?

“Roll over on your belly.”

She did, taking him with her. She heard his foot hit the nightstand clock and it tumbled to the floor.

“Zoe?”

“What—” she managed to gasp.

“The bet's over. It's past noon. You can do whatever you want.” Phillip pulled the cords and freed her.

She sat up and wrapped her arms around him. As her slippery breast glided across his chest, he groaned. When he didn't stop her, she grabbed his lips in her own and kissed him as if her life depended on it.

“This is what I want,” she gasped.

She ran her hand down his back and caught his bottom lip between her teeth. He grunted in agreement.

While caressing his chest with her breasts, she asked, “You know what that means?”

He ran his hands down her back and over her ass. “Don't leave.” It was almost a plea.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Yes.”

“You know,” she said, lifting a breast to his hungry mouth. “The ‘no penetration' clause is now officially null and void.”

He groaned and ran his fingers between her legs. As he slid inside, mere millimeters, she backed away and said, “Take off your shorts.”

He did, and when her eyes landed on his cock, she saw desire in his eyes.

“It's nice to give an occasional order,” she said.

He stood there as she flattened herself against the bed. She spread her legs to give him a glimpse of herself, teasing him. As she opened her mouth in anticipation for his broad purpled head, he groaned again. She took him in without hesitation.

The suction, the swirling—within moments he pulled her up. “Stop, please.” His voice was hoarse. “Not like this.” She tugged him with one more suck, and he pounced on her. Or maybe she pounced on him. She couldn't tell.

Between kisses, she heard him gasping her name. It did something to her. It melted her completely. While she'd been busy fighting her pride, he'd found a way to her heart.

He fumbled in the drawer for a condom and slid it on. She was wet and she was ready, but he didn't rush in. He pulled her so that she straddled him. His cock pulsated against her sex. He moved his mouth from hers, downward.

Knowing what he wanted, she pushed a breast to his mouth. She was so willing, so willing.

As he licked and sucked and bit at the stiff nipple, desire coiled in a tight ball in her belly. She twisted to present her other breast to his mouth, enjoying the shift in pressure of his cock against her clit. He obliged, hungrily, grazing his teeth against the other nipple and pressing harder against her.

“Now,” she said, at the same time that he said, “Now.”

“Yes,” she moaned, pushing herself toward him. His hands encircled her tiny waist and pulled her fully on top of him. He thrust his hips upward in an invitation that she accepted. Ravenous, Zoe wrapped her legs more tightly around his hips, caught hold of his cock, and lifted herself just right. Tightening her thighs, she grabbed him and pulled until he sank into her, spreading her, filling her deliciously full. She shuddered.

She felt him shudder, too.

“God, Zoe . . .” Phillip pushed her onto her back, pushing more deeply inside of her. She felt her muscles clamping onto him.

The magnitude of his desire for her filled her. Under him, she began to work, meeting each of his thrusts. She could hardly bear the pleasure of the penetration, and she hoped he was as close to ecstasy as she was.

Gasping, she couldn't look away from his face. She saw his jaw flex in an effort to control himself. Forced to keep her strokes short with his body on top of hers, she let his cock sink deliciously inside of her. Suddenly, she knew she was one nudge, one feather touch, away.

Phillip roared, “I need to . . . !”

She thrust herself up and he thrust down one more fulfilling drive.

“Phillip!” she cried, as the orgasm sizzled across her nerves in a delicious explosion.

Deep inside her, she could feel the pulsing of his thick cock.

 

Later, as they clung together in the sea of his bed, she ran her hand over his chest, thighs, wherever she could reach. The planes of his body fascinated her.

“Mmmmm. That was . . .” She couldn't think of anything good enough.

“Yeah,” he agreed groggily.

“Having you inside of me felt great.”

He whispered in her ear, “Do I have to keep winning bets to get you into bed?”

Just then, she knew she'd never be able to think of herself as the Ice Queen again. But where did that leave her at the firm? She just didn't want to think about that yet.

“Sorry,” she said, teasingly. “We have to skip the second date.”

“Why?” He sounded so horrified that she grinned.

“I really don't want to be spanked.”

He ran his palm over her ass, caressing, promising. “You're all talk, Lauterborn. You don't even know yourself yet.”

“You keep saying that,” she said, as if she doubted him.

“Okay,” Phillip said, relenting with a tired grin. “We'll save it for the third date.”

“Bastard,” she said, sweetly, getting up.

She walked around the bed and tripped over the clock. It read 11:45.

“You bastard.” This time her tone was not sweet—not at all. “You lied to me.”

“What?”

“ ‘No penetration' remember?”

“But you wanted it.”

“I don't remember that as part of the terms.”

“Zoe—”

“There's only one solution to this.”

Phillip sat up, scratching his head, looking extremely displeased. “What's that?”

“Let's see if it's just as good after twelve.” Zoe climbed back in bed.