Читать книгу A Perfect Strategy - Anna Sugden - Страница 12
ОглавлениеSCOTT WAS AS nervous as a geeky teenager dancing with the homecoming queen.
He hadn’t held a woman, other than his wife, in his arms for...hell...too many years to think about. For sure not since he was eighteen. Even before then, he’d been more interested in hockey than girls, so he was as green as a rookie when it came to women. What little he knew was as outmoded as a cassette tape in the world of music streaming.
Slow-dancing with the prettiest woman in the room... Staring into her clear blue eyes.
He angled himself slightly so that his groin wasn’t against her thighs, then shifted his hand on her back.
Even he could read the invitation in Sapphie’s expression. The way she moved their joined hands to link their fingers. How she tilted her head so her mouth was barely a breath away from his.
Sapphie wanted to kiss him.
He’d never wanted anything so much.
The thought startled him. His heart thudded against his ribs. It sounded like something his always-in-love, everything’s-a-drama daughter would say.
He was a grown man. He’d seen Sapphie a few times over the past year and each time he’d felt guilty about how he’d reacted to her. He’d put it down to his divorce, his retirement—anything but the fact that it was Sapphie herself who sent his pulse skyrocketing.
Kiss the woman already.
He lowered his head, brushing his mouth over her lips. Getting the sweetest taste.
A lightning bolt shot through his body, headed straight for his groin.
He wanted more. Much more.
Start me up.
The intro to a Rolling Stones song blasted him out of the sensuous moment. Scott jerked his head up. At the same time, he tightened his hold on Sapphie. Not wanting to let her go. But they couldn’t remain on the dance floor making a spectacle of themselves by continuing to slow dance while everyone around them bopped to Jagger.
He and Sapphie eased apart, but he didn’t let go of her hand. She tightened her grip. They headed toward the back of the ballroom, where they found an empty space near a table to stand.
“So...” Sapphie cleared her throat. “Probably not the best place for kissing.”
The tips of his ears grew hot.
“Uh, no.”
Sapphie looked him straight in the eye. “Do you want to find a place to continue this or get a drink?”
He knew what his answer should be. “I’m not thirsty.”
Sapphie’s smile lit up her face, making him feel like he’d scored the game-winner. Which, given he was a stay-at-home defenseman, would be as much of a miracle as this evening was turning out to be.
“There are gardens out back,” she suggested. “We could take a walk, get some fresh air.”
“Fresh air’s good.”
She tilted her head toward the door. “We can make a break for it before the song ends.”
Like naughty schoolchildren, they slipped past the caterers replenishing the buffet and paused in the foyer to adjust to the brighter light.
Scott half expected Sapphie to change her mind. What would a bright, bubbly and beautiful woman like her want with an out-of-work, out-of-place old guy like him?
Instead, she tugged on their joined hands, pulling him into a side corridor that ended at a glass fire door. He pushed open the door for her, then let it close behind them.
The night was surprisingly still, even though crickets and tree frogs chirped. The balmy air felt good after the chill inside. A rain shower earlier in the day had lowered the blazing late-summer temperatures and cleared some of Jersey’s notorious humidity.
Scott and Sapphie strolled along the brick path, their way lit by old-fashioned lanterns that cast pools of soft light at regular intervals. They crossed over a wooden bridge that spanned a shallow stream and continued toward a stone gazebo. Turning a corner, they took steps leading down to a jetty, which stretched out into the dark water of the lake.
Sapphie slipped off her shoes and held them by the heels. “Come on. Let’s dangle our feet in the water.”
She didn’t wait for his answer before dashing to the end of the jetty.
Scott followed, smiling at her infectious enthusiasm. “Wait. You’ll ruin your gown if you sit there.” He shrugged out of his tux jacket and spread it out on the planks. “Now you can sit, my lady.”
She grinned, clasping her hands to her chest. “My hero. Thank you, Sir Galahad. Or should that be Sir Walter Raleigh—protecting my silk dress from damage by laying down your coat?”
“Either way, you’re welcome. Can’t have you going into the ballroom with a dirty patch on your backside.”
Flirting wasn’t one of his skills, because he’d never needed to play those games.
Thankfully, Sapphie laughed at his inept response. “That would be hard to explain.” She dipped her bare feet into the water and wiggled her toes. “Oh, that feels good.”
Man, was he out of his depth when he was turned on by dainty feet and cute toes.
She patted the space beside her. “Won’t you join me? There’s enough room, so you won’t get mud on your great butt either.”
He sat beside her and was about to put his feet in the water when he realized he still wore his shoes. Hoping Sapphie hadn’t noticed, he removed them and his socks, then put them behind him on the jetty. He also remembered to roll up his pant legs.
“You’re right. That feels good,” he said.
They sat quietly, watching the play of moonlight on the rippling water. For a woman who exuded energy and life, she was surprisingly good at handling silence. She didn’t rush to fill it with chatter. The only movement was the swish of her feet making little whirlpools.
Scott managed not to jump when her hand slipped into his. Instead, he kept staring forward as he entwined their fingers, then rested their joined hands on his thigh. His thumb mimicked her feet, stroking her soft skin in circles. His pulse kicked when she copied his action, her thumb drawing circles on his knuckle.
He turned to look at her. Only to find her studying him.
The silence became charged. Like the electricity in the air before a storm.
Sapphie gently touched his mouth with her finger. She lingered over his scar, making it tingle. “I know this doesn’t hurt anymore, but it makes me want to kiss your poor lip better.”
He almost couldn’t breathe. “Feel free,” he managed to say.
She didn’t need a second invitation. She kissed her fingertip and pressed it to his lip.
He tried not to be disappointed. He’d expected—
Her mouth replaced her fingertip. She brushed a soft kiss against his scar. So fleeting it was over almost before it started. Yet it sent fierce need pulsing through his body.
Her second kiss was firmer, lasting a fraction longer. Her third, longer still. Then her tongue traced his scar.
He hardened instantly, spurring him to action. Two could play this game.
He reached up and rubbed his thumb over her full lower lip. Back and forth, gently parting her lips.
She responded by nipping his thumb, then flicking her tongue against it. Her mouth curved into a teasing smile. A satisfied glint lit her eyes.
So she thought she was in control? That she had him where she wanted him.
Not quite.
He swept in and took advantage of her parted lips. No teasing or flirting. No hesitation or asking permission. His hand cupped the back of her head, anchoring her to him.
Her grip on his other hand tightened. Her free arm wound around his neck, pulling him closer. She met his desire and upped the intensity.
Suddenly, it wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel her against him. To touch her.
He released her hand and stroked her arm. Was her skin as soft everywhere? While he massaged her neck, he ran the fingers of his other hand over her bare shoulder and down her back, until they met silky fabric. He’d admired the strapless, knee-length sheath earlier—the way it emphasized her delicious curves and showed off her amazing legs. Now it was an unwelcome barrier.
Pulling his lips from hers, he kissed his way across her cheek to her ear. She inhaled sharply as he nipped at her earlobe. When his mouth trailed down her neck, she tilted her head to give him better access.
Sapphie sighed as he continued his journey across her shoulder, paying particular attention to the hollow of her collarbone. When he reached the curve of her shoulder, his mouth took a lower path, toward her breasts.
He licked a moist trail along the top of her dress, following the rise and fall of the blue fabric over the swell of one breast, into the valley between, then up over the other.
He nudged aside the silk and retraced his path.
He wanted more. He ran his hand along the back of her dress, searching for the zipper.
He tried again.
Where the hell was the damn thing?
Sapphie chuckled softly as she moved his hand to her right side. “Try here.”
Sapphie proved she wasn’t put off by his fumbling by loosening his tie, removing it and tossing it aside. Then she undid the top button of his shirt. And the next.
His fingers curved tightly against her side as she pressed a hot openmouthed kiss to the pulse at the base of his throat. Then went lower.
And lower. Unbutton, kiss. Unbutton, kiss.
He almost protested aloud when she halted with his shirt only halfway undone. Don’t stop now!
She didn’t. Scott couldn’t hold back his groan as she separated the two sides and licked across his right pec, circling his nipple, then returning to repeat on the other side.
This time, when she arrived at the center of his chest, she started to trail downward. His stomach clenched with anticipation.
Uh, no. If she continued along that route, he’d embarrass himself in the worst way possible.
“My turn.” He slid a finger under her chin and tilted her face to his.
Her sassy smile did crazy things to his insides. “Be my guest.”
He nibbled her bottom lip, then licked it, relishing the taste of her. Sweet yet spicy. Champagne and chocolate.
Scott took her mouth fully, then deepened the kiss. This time, his hand moved aside the fabric that did such a good job of covering the damn zipper and slowly pulled the tab down. Then he slipped his fingers inside.
And found nothing but soft, bare skin.
That made his task much simpler. No more barriers to exploring to his heart’s content. And he did.
First her back. Her skin was as smooth as the silk that had covered it. He trailed his fingertips lightly down the ridge of her spine.
He smiled as she arched her back, gasping slightly. So she was ticklish. Or very sensitive. Either way, he’d return shortly to investigate further. In the meantime, he wanted to move to other, uncharted territory.
His thumb slid under the front of her dress and traced the curve of her breast. First the underside, then up over the top. Then around the other way. When he tried to part the fabric, he noticed there was a hook at the top of the zipper, holding the bodice in place. He undid it and the front of the dress fell open.
Her breasts were as beautiful as the rest of her. Perfectly sized, perfectly shaped. A tan line from a bikini framed the creamy mounds, which were topped by taut, pink nipples. As tantalizing and mouthwatering as the most decadent dessert.
He dipped his head and circled one bud with his tongue.
The sound of laughter close by was like a plunge into an ice bath, shocking him out of the haze of desire.
Scott straightened. What the hell was he doing? He shouldn’t have put Sapphie in such a potentially embarrassing situation. It was his responsibility to protect her from such exposure.
“I’m sorry.” Carefully, he drew the dress back over her breasts, covering them. He tried to refasten the hook, but his fingers were too clumsy to manage the fiddly device.
Sapphie pushed his hands aside and neatly slotted the hook into its eye, then pulled up the zipper. The rasp of the slider against the teeth seemed harsh and discordant in the still night air. She then stood and wiggled, to rearrange the dress so that it fell properly into place.
Damn it if that wiggle didn’t turn him on. Made him want to mess her up again.
“No harm done.” Smoothing her tousled hair, she smiled.
He jammed his hands in his pockets. “I guess we should head inside, to the party.” He looked at his shoes and socks. Probably ought to put them on.
Sapphie picked up his jacket and dusted off the back before handing it to him. “If you insist. Or we could continue what we were doing in a more private setting.”
Her steady gaze met his. “I have a room in the hotel. You’re welcome to join me there.”
* * *
OH MY GOD. Sapphie had asked Scotty Matthews to her room. She stifled a girlie squeal and tried to look like it was no big deal.
And it wasn’t really. He was just a guy. Okay, a gorgeous, sexy—if a little serious—and utterly tempting guy. The thought of loosening him up, making him lose control, sent a shiver of delight through her.
Over the years, she’d slept with richer and more famous men. She’d even had a memorable night with one of her teenage Hollywood crushes. Sadly, it was memorable for the wrong reasons—one of which was particularly small. Her choice of man didn’t depend on how famous he was, how much he had in his bank or whether he was on People magazine’s list of sexy people.
Being in charge of her life meant that she chose who, when and for how long.
Scotty filled the bill very nicely.
Sapphie didn’t want the night to end—and she would eliminate the possibility of another interruption. She wanted to investigate the unexpected fire that had erupted between them and see how hot it could burn. Given what he’d done to her with his kisses—holy moly, his mouth was lethal—she had no doubts they could shatter a thermometer. As for his touch, the man was as talented with his hands off the ice as he was on. Her skin still tingled from his caresses.
But still...this was Scotty Matthews.
She’d never been in such a dizzy whirl about a man.
Sapphie became uncomfortably aware of the silence. Scotty hadn’t responded to her offer. He hadn’t even blinked. The way he was looking at her made her nervous.
Had she misunderstood the signals? No. He wanted her. He’d been as turned on as she had. She’d felt his erection pressing against her. The slight tremble in his heated touch. Tasted the passion in his kiss.
Maybe a kiss was as far as he’d wanted to go. Was it too soon after his divorce?
“Won’t we be missed?” His gravelly words cut through the maelstrom of her thoughts.
“Possibly.” Her uncertainty made it sound like a question.
He cleared his throat. “You’re Issy’s bridesmaid.”
Did that mean he wanted to leave with her or not? His even tone gave her no clues.
If she were at work, she’d cut to the chase. “What do you want to do?”
“I’ll be honest—this is something different for me.” He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “Being with someone new. Wanting to be with that person. I’m out of touch with dating etiquette, if I ever knew what it was. I married my high-school sweetheart.”
His apprehension touched her and calmed her jumbled thoughts. He was so strong and steady and solid she hadn’t appreciated that ending his longtime marriage would affect him at such a basic level. She was amazed he hadn’t turned tail and fled at her offer.
She zeroed in on the key phrase in his admission. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to; he did but didn’t know how to go about it.
“As I see it, we have several possible courses of action. One, we go back to the reception and wait for people to start leaving before disappearing upstairs. That way no one will notice our exit. Two—” she enumerated the options on her fingers “—we go inside, say our goodbyes and skip out. Three, we assume everyone has their mind on other things than what we’re up to and skip going back altogether.”
Scotty frowned, seeming to give it serious thought.
“Would it bother you if we’re seen leaving together?” she asked gently.
He shrugged. “We’re both unattached adults. What about you?”
“Doesn’t worry me at all.”
“I don’t want to go to the party and waste time with other people that could be spent alone with you.”
His slow smile made her stomach drop. “I like the way you think. Very much.”
“Decision made. Let’s go.” He knelt and picked up one of her shoes. He held out the pump.
Delighted by his chivalry, Sapphie balanced herself with a hand on his shoulder, then lifted her foot so he could slip the shoe on. As she repeated the process with her other foot, she wondered how a simple act could make her long for him to trail those magical fingers higher, much higher, up her leg.
Low in her belly, muscles tightened. “Thank you,” she said huskily as she straightened.
“My pleasure.” He shoved his socks in his pocket, then reached for his wingtips and put them on, stuffing the half-tied laces down the side. Then he held out his hand.
They linked fingers and hurried toward the hotel.
Once inside the door, she steered them to the right. “If we go this way, we can avoid the ballroom. There are elevators at the end that go to the guest floors.”
Though it wasn’t late, the corridor was deserted and the elevator came quickly. Unfortunately, the car didn’t stay empty as it rose to the first floor. People crowded in, pushing Sapphie and Scotty to the back corner. They moved closer together as more people tried to squeeze into the already-packed car, until Scotty put his arm around her shoulders and tucked her into his side.
The man was a gentleman. Although the way he caressed her shoulder with one fingertip did wicked things to her insides.
She slipped her arm around his waist under his jacket. Then she dipped her fingers between the belted waistband of his pants and started inching the shirt free so she could play with his bare skin.
“We’re still in public,” he murmured against her ear before nipping the lobe.
Sapphie covered her sigh with a cough. “Damn it.”
They didn’t move apart as the elevator made its way upward and gradually emptied. The journey seemed to go quickly and yet too slowly. Anticipation filled Sapphie as the top floor was announced and the doors swished open.
Scotty’s grip on her shoulder tightened fractionally before he released her. They walked side by side along the plush carpeting without speaking.
Sapphie was unusually nervous. She sensed if she said the wrong thing, she might spook Scotty, even though he’d made it clear that he was as desperate as she was to get behind the closed door and finally be able to explore this crazy attraction between them in private.
Outside her room, she pulled her key card out of her little blue clutch and held it against the lock until it clicked. As she stepped into the dimly lit room, her nerves vanished.
She was in her domain. Somehow that gave her the feeling of control that she’d been lacking since she’d stepped onto the dance floor with Scotty. She took out her phone and, ignoring the texts and missed calls, switched it to silent, then put it and her clutch on the desk.
Turning to face Scotty, she found him standing in front of her. He’d discarded his jacket—hanging it over a chair—and removed his cuff links, so his sleeves hung open, revealing muscled forearms. There was something incredibly sexy about this man, slightly disheveled in his formal wear.
He trailed a finger along her shoulder, over the ridge of her collarbone, to the hollow at the base of her neck. There, he let his fingertip rest momentarily against her skittering pulse before heading unerringly downward to the valley between her breasts. Then he hooked the neckline of her dress and drew her toward him.
She lifted her arms to his shoulders, then wound them around his neck. His arms pulled her against his body so they were plastered together from chest to toe.
Their mouths met, hot and urgent. The time for playing and flirting and teasing was done.
And there were too many clothes. Sapphie wanted to feel him skin to skin.
She went to work on his shirt, tugging it out of his pants before quickly undoing his buttons. Her palms tingled as she slid them over the hard planes of his chest to his shoulders so she could remove the shirt. She then tossed it behind her and focused on exploring his chest more fully.
Scotty kept himself in great shape even though he was no longer playing. Smooth, tanned skin, with a sprinkling of crisp dark hair, covered well-defined muscles. Not an ounce of fat on his impressive six-pack. In fact, the only thing marring his upper body was a long-healed white scar across the line of his collarbone, where he’d had surgery to repair a broken clavicle early in his playing career.
Sapphie put her lips to the scar, then kissed her way along it to the middle of his chest, then headed down to his flat stomach. As her fingers busied themselves with his belt buckle, her tongue traced the ridges of that six-pack, taking a roundabout path to his belly button. And lower still.
Scotty moaned, then tunneled his fingers through her hair, halting her progress. “My turn. Please.”
“Always the gentleman.” She pressed an openmouthed kiss to the bare skin just above his open belt, then slowly straightened. She held out her hands, palms up. “I’m all yours.”
In two simple moves, her unhooked, unzipped dress slid down her legs to form a puddle of silk on the floor.
She stepped out of the dress and stood before him naked, except for her turquoise lace panties and her shoes.
Scotty stared, mesmerized, for several seconds. “You are stunning,” he said softly, fervently.
“Why, thank you.” She bobbed a curtsy.
His gaze traveled admiringly over her body, making her glad she’d kept up her exercise routine despite her crazy work schedule. Then all thoughts of treadmills and weights flew out of her head as his gaze settled on her breasts. She felt the heat of his look almost as clearly as if he’d touched her.
Yearning tugged at her chest. She wanted his touch. Badly. Now.
“You don’t just have to look, you know.”
His smile made her stomach flip. “Patience. We have all night.”
She reached out to gently scrape her fingernail down the middle of his chest. “Ah, but I can’t wait all night for my turn to play again.” She deliberately let her finger wander below his waistband, where his erection strained against the black fabric. “I don’t think you want me to either.”
His short laugh sounded a tad strained. “Stop that or this will be over before it’s started.”
“O-kay.” She shrugged but removed her hand.
He ran his finger over her bottom lip, then leaned forward and nipped it. “It’ll be worth the wait.”
“Bold words, Captain Matthews.”
“Ex-captain. Still, you know you can always trust promises made by the captain.”
She bit back a moan as he mimicked her action and trailed a finger over her chin, down her neck and into the valley between her breasts. His mouth followed, then circled the swell of her right breast. His hands, meanwhile, skimmed over her sides to her hips, then settled on her bottom.
“This isn’t one of those ‘win guarantees,’ like Messier in ’94, is it?”
“Much as I hate to be compared to the Rangers’ former captain, he delivered. So will I.”
The matter-of-fact statement, uttered in that smooth, deep voice, heightened the anticipation. “Feel free to continue.”
Her airy words ended with a gasp as he took her nipple into his mouth.
The seriousness and single-minded focus that had both drawn her to him and intimidated her were a major plus when he used them to turn her on. As he continued to stroke and taste every inch of her, she swore she could hear the “Hallelujah Chorus” building to a crescendo.
Before her legs could give out, he swept her into his arms and deposited her on the bed. He removed her shoes, then began to trace a path up her legs, starting with her toes. He quickly found and then lingered over her more sensitive spots—the back of her knees, the inside of her thighs and the lower curve of her backside. Then he reached the most sensitive place of all.
He’d barely begun to give that delicate bud attention when her first orgasm rippled through her. He paused until the tremors had subsided, then continued to play with her until he’d made her come apart a second time. Then he propped himself up on one elbow and gently caressed her as she recovered.
Totally spent, she looked up at him. “You were right. It was worth the wait.”
His smile spoke volumes. “We’re not done yet.”
That cocky grin reenergized her. “We certainly aren’t.” She rose and pushed him onto his back. “And you have too many clothes on.”
Sapphie made quick work of removing his pants and his boxer shorts. Then she gave him a taste of his own medicine, using her fingers and mouth to explore every inch of his amazing body. Whenever he tried to intervene, she batted his hand away and carried on with her sensual journey to its tantalizing destination: his straining erection.
Knowing she had him on the brink, she straddled him and sank slowly onto his hard shaft until he was buried deep inside her. She savored the way he fit her perfectly. Filled her completely.
His guttural moan resonated within her, rekindling the burning need she’d thought he’d sated. Suddenly, the time for playing was past.
Urgency overtook them. They moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies as attuned to each other as they’d been on the dance floor. Slowly at first, then with gathering speed, they raced toward completion. Harder, faster. Until, as one, they reached the crest and flew over the edge.
