Year of Living Blonde (Sweet Life in Seattle, Book 1) (47 page)

Natalie’s eyes fall shut as she gasps with pleasure.

I’m helpless. My desire has made me helpless.
Her hands grip his shoulders and then travel up around his neck. He smells clean, like soap and mint, and when her hands run through his hair at the back of his neck she finds it damp. He must have just taken a shower.

Anthony draws back and the two of them gaze at each other. His eyes are feverish. She’s glad to see she isn’t the only one affected.

His warm hand envelops hers and he pulls her along toward the staircase. Natalie watches the way his muscles move beneath his T-shirt.

“Aren’t you going to show me your house?” she asks, just to annoy him.

“Later.”

Anthony leads her upstairs.

He’s still pissed off by the way she’s letting him swing in the wind. He didn’t even know whether she was going to show up tonight and he doesn’t like that kind of uncertainty.

She’s got this grudge and it only seems to be getting worse, but he also knows she wants him just as much as he wants her.

So to hell with everything else.

He pulls her into his bedroom and can see her glancing around. His bed is big with an elaborate wood headboard he picked up years ago in Kenya when he worked with the ISA. The sheets and duvet are white because they’re the easiest to wash. He’d made the bed hastily earlier, and now sits down on the edge.

“Get over here,” he says, reaching out and pulling her between his open thighs.

Anthony grasps Natalie’s hips through her jeans then slides his hands around to grip her ass. For a long moment he closes his eyes. There’s a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He’s glad she’s here. Relieved, and it’s the depth of his relief that worries him.

Her cool hands are on his shoulders. They move to his face where her fingers trail over the stubble he left for her. She notices and smiles, but Anthony doesn’t smile back. He’s past that.

“I want you to take your top off,” he says.

Natalie pauses, her blue eyes studying him. She licks her lips nervously. He hasn’t kissed that sultry mouth yet, but he will soon. He knows Natalie doesn’t like his request. Can see it on her face. She doesn’t want to undress in front of him because the room isn’t dark enough to suit her. There’s a lamp burning in the corner and he’ll definitely be able to see everything, but maybe he doesn’t care, maybe he wants to punish her a little.

It’s my turn.

Natalie removes her hand from his cheek and he wonders if she’s going to turn skittish, but instead, she takes her long hair and gathers it so it’s falling at her back. The scent of vanilla drifts toward him. She slips her blouse off and hands it over. He tosses it onto the leather bench at the foot of his bed.

Her breasts look sexy in the camisole, but then he decides he wants it gone, along with the bra.

“All of it.”

She hesitates, but then reaches for the thin material at the bottom and pulls it over her head, tossing it with her blouse. His erection stiffens as he anticipates seeing her bare breasts.

“Keep going.” His voice is low with a note of urgency.

Natalie hears that note. “You do it,” she says in defiance.

They study each other for a few beats and then he snorts softly, reaches around and unfastens the clasp on her bra, slips it off, and throws it with the rest of the pile.

His eyes are on her face, but then he can’t help himself, looks down and takes in the sight of her—so luscious. Like whipped cream with two sweet cherries on top. He swallows and actually feels lightheaded before a wave of lust crashes over him.

Then he doesn’t want to play games anymore, doesn’t want to think, doesn’t want anything but Natalie wrapped around him while he’s buried inside her to the hilt.

Anthony grabs her wrists and pulls her down onto the sheets. She lets out a little shriek and he checks her face, but she’s grinning. He’s not surprised. Despite her overall stubbornness, he’s noticed Natalie likes to be dominated in bed.

Good.

Because I’m in a dominating kind of mood.

He unfastens her jeans and strips them off her, flinging them aside, along with her panties.

“I only want you to come to me in dresses from now on,” he says impatiently.

Then he pulls his shirt overhead and starts on his own jeans. He can see the way she’s watching him, laying back on her elbows, eyes hot with wanting. It isn’t the first time he’s seen that look on a woman’s face, but on Natalie he particularly likes it.

She tries to sit up, but he shakes his head.

“Don’t move. I want you right there.”

Once he’s naked, he opens his bedside drawer and grabs a strip of condoms, pulls one off and tosses the rest onto his nightstand for later. He quickly slips it on.

The bed dips as he moves over her, caging her with his body. Natalie is squirming beneath him, grabbing his shoulders, then his face.

“Kiss me,” she says. “You haven’t kissed me.”

His breathing is harsh to his own ears and he shuts his eyes, trying to pull it together. Natalie is so soft beneath him everywhere—breasts, hips, and thighs, such a luxurious woman.

“
Preghi,
” he says to her. “
Voglio che tu mi preghi.
”
Beg. I want you to beg me.

He’s speaking Italian, so she doesn’t understand, but he says it anyway.
Christ.
I don’t even know why I’m saying these crazy things.

Opening his eyes, he gazes down, their faces so close. His body shifts between her thighs and he positions himself right where he needs to be, but he doesn’t enter her.

“Please kiss me, Anthony.”

And it’s only because she’s pleading that he finally lowers his mouth. He intends to give her a small nip, but their kiss turns into something else, something deep. Natalie tastes like every desire he’s ever had. He swears he could kiss her forever, but he’s not done punishing her yet, so he pulls away. She complains and tries to draw him back, but he doesn’t let her. Instead, he thrusts his cock into her slick heat, but only briefly, before pulling out again.

Natalie gasps. Her eyes were closed, but they open when he withdraws. He likes to watch her like this. Hot and desperate.

He continues teasing her—pushing in, then pulling out—until she’s grabbing his ass.

This time he pulls out and lavishes attention on her breasts. Stroking and fondling them, playing with her nipples, using his mouth to suckle her. When her breathing gets thready, he stops and goes back to teasing her with his cock.

Natalie thrashes around. “Stop this,” she breathes. “Stop doing this!”

“Why?”

Her face is flushed and she looks at him like he’s crazy. “What do you want?”

And that’s the cosmic riddle, isn’t it? The puzzle he’s trying to solve. In a way he wants her acquiescence, but he knows he wouldn’t be happy if she was easy.

So he doesn’t answer and instead, continues the torment, sweat breaking out on his forehead and back, his hands gripping the mattress for control. It’s killing him to tease her like this and in the corner of his mind he wonders who’s really being punished here.

“
You,
” he whispers finally, the answer suddenly coming to him. “I want
you.
”

Natalie’s eyes are glazed with desire, but he can see she understands. The moment between them is intensely intimate. She reaches up and holds the sides of his face with both hands. “You have me. Don’t you know that? I’m yours.”

And then his control crumbles, his body rebelling against all the prolonged tension. His balls ache like crazy and before he can stop himself, he thrusts fully into her.

Blood rushes in his ears and it’s from a distance he hears her moan, feels her legs wrap around his waist.

It’s a miracle he lasted.

And then everything is up close again as he kisses her, groaning into her mouth. Natalie’s nails are digging into his back and then his ass and it’s as if nothing can stop him. His muscles pull and stretch and finally his orgasm arrives—exploding like the core collapse of a supernova.

“YOU’RE LIKE A
different person in bed,” Natalie tells Anthony, breaking the silence. They’d dozed for a short while after that intense bout of lovemaking. She glances at the bedside clock and sees it’s after ten pm.

“How’s that?”

“You’re so serious.” Natalie thinks about his recent possessiveness, but doesn’t want to mention it, since she’s still trying to decipher what it means. “I can’t believe I’m the only woman who’s ever commented on it.”

Anthony shrugs. “I may have heard it before.”

“So what’s going on there?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think you do.”

“First, I want to ask you something.” He’s lying on his side and props himself up on one elbow. “I’d like you to go to the Smyth Science Award Banquet with me. Will you?”

“Really?” A delighted thrill rushes through her. Nobody ever asked her to prom, but Anthony might have just made up for that. “I’d love to go with you.”

“Good.” He gives her one of his boyish grins. “And just so you know, Miss Natalie, I expect you put out afterward whether I win the medal or not.”

“As if,” she scoffs. “I’m not putting out for a loser.”

“And what if I win?”

“Well, then I’ll have to get out my bag of sex tricks, won’t I?”

“Cougar lady sex tricks?” he asks with big eyes.

Natalie turns away, unable to hide her irritation. “You’ve
got
to stop calling me that.”

Anthony laughs and then captures her hand, bringing it to his mouth. She tries to pull it back, but he won’t let her. Instead, he holds her hand and kisses every baking scar. Her heart catches in her throat watching him—his lips so soft.

“Did you know,” he says, kissing her wrist, “that Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz were six years apart in age?”

Natalie digests this piece of information. “How do you know that? Were you googling famous cougars again, young man?”

“Maya told me.” He moves from kissing her wrist to licking it and she can’t believe how arousing it is.
Who knew my wrist was an erogenous zone?
“Apparently Lucy and Desi lied and told people it was only three years, but it was in fact six, so there you go.”

“You told Maya about us?”

He nods in affirmation.

“What did she say? Though I guess she already figured out we’re dating.”

Anthony lets go of her hand to tuck a pillow under his head so he can lie down on his side facing her. When he’s comfortable, he takes her hand again, intertwining their fingers. “Maya thinks I’m falling in love with you.”

“What?” Natalie stops breathing. There’s a range of emotions conflicting inside her. She studies him. “Do you think that’s true?”

“It might be.”

“That’s not much of an answer.”

Anthony chuckles softly in reply.

“Why does Maya think that?”

“Apparently, I talk about you a lot. Plus I’m constantly checking my phone. I guess she’s never seen me act this way with anyone before.”

Natalie doesn’t know what to say.

He plays with her fingers. “How do you feel? Do you think we’re falling in love?” His tone is light, but she suspects the question isn’t. Especially when she thinks back to how he acted when they made love earlier.