Читать книгу Under Fire - Jamie Denton Ann - Страница 11

“WHAT WOULD YOU like to know?”

Can you make the earth move?

Got any fireworks in your pocket?

Pertinent questions, Jana thought. At least in her painfully uninformed opinion. Darned appropriate, too, considering the sparks still skimming along the surface of her skin.

Risk it. Those two words held more meaning for her than Ben could possibly know.

“Well…” She drew in a deep breath, gathering more courage. “Are orgasms really everything everyone says they are?”

She hardly thought it possible to surprise him more than she already had with her earlier admission, but obviously the feminine mystique was hardly in danger. Not if she used the distinct hike of his eyebrows and the curiosity filling his pale-blue eyes as a barometer.

He took a long, slow drink from the amber bottle of beer clutched in his hand. “You seriously don’t know?” he finally asked. A dark lock fell across his forehead and he rammed his fingers through his hair to push it back in place. His hand stilled at the back of his neck a moment before dropping to the table.

She shook her head and twirled the stem of her wineglass. “Nope.”

“Not close?” His long fingers flexed, tightening around the bottle. “Not even once?”

Did he have to sound so shocked? “Well…” She considered her answer for a moment. “Maybe. Once.” She shook her head. “No. On second thought, I don’t think it was the real thing.”

He stared at her with that intense, icy gaze, as if she’d just spoken in a foreign language.

“You don’t think?” He laughed. Full, robust laughter that made her smile despite the difficulty she was having discussing her malfunctioning G-spot. “This I do have to hear.”

She held up her index finger and gave him a look of mock sternness. “Hold it a minute. I thought I was the one supposed to be asking the questions here?”

His grin deepened. “Yeah, but your answers to mine are very interesting.”

“More like embarrassing,” she muttered, then took a sip of her wine.

His expression sobered. “Don’t be embarrassed, Jana. Inexperience is nothing to be ashamed of.”

She set her glass on the damp napkin. “I never said I was inexperienced. There’s a difference.”

“Not if you’ve never had an orgasm,” he said as he leaned forward. “Your lovers must’ve been damned selfish.”

She cleared her throat. A sharp stab of self-consciousness pierced her, then she quickly chastised herself for being so silly. Ben was absolutely right. Why should she be embarrassed by their conversation or because she’d had lousy lovers? Tonight, she could say or do anything. It wasn’t as if she’d ever see him again.

“You must find this all very entertaining,” she said.

The color of his eyes deepened to the color of the ocean. “I have a feeling you’d be a very entertaining woman.”

The air practically crackled with electricity around them at his quietly spoken words. She felt a sharp tug of desire in her abdomen. “I was thinking the same thing,” she said brazenly, unable to look away. “About you.”

Oh, good grief, why not just write Take Me Now, Stud on her forehead in bright red lipstick? It’d certainly be direct, but nowhere near as fun and liberating as flirting so outrageously with such a gorgeous hunk.

A slow, lazy smile curved his mouth. He had such a great-looking mouth, too, with a full bottom lip she was dying to taste.

Her breath caught, then came out in a rush. If just the thought of kissing him nearly stole her breath, she couldn’t wait to see what would happen if she tried to cure her orgasm problem.

“You’re evading the subject again,” he teased. “Tell me how close you’ve been to having an orgasm.”

What she wanted was to tell him exactly how close she’d like to get with him. Past the clouds. Over the moon. Fireworks, bursting stars, the whole enchilada.

Or so she’d heard.

“Jana?” he prompted.

“I felt…” The tempting quirk of his lips combined with the husky note in his voice snatched her breath again, halting her capacity for rational thought. “Tingly,” she finally blurted.

“Tingly.” He repeated the word slowly, as if absorbing it with care. “Just tingly?”

She nodded. “Just tingly.”

He cleared his throat, then shifted slightly in the booth, leaning forward to brace those drool-worthy forearms on the lacquered table. “Anywhere in particular?”

Moon, stars and fireworks fizzled like an interrupted daydream when her cheeks heated as if she were a teenage virgin. “Now there you go again,” she chastised him. “Asking me to reveal the secrets of being a woman.”

He reached across the table, peeling her fingers from the stem of the wineglass one by one. Gently, he lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across the inside of her wrist. Awareness skittered across her skin as he lightly feathered his tongue against her pulse before releasing her.

“That kind of tingly?” he asked in a voice reserved for lovers.

A jolt of electricity shot to the tips of her breasts and sizzled, warming her entire body with the heat of immediate arousal. Exactly who was seducing whom here? Forget his B.V.D.s. Her suddenly moist panties were close to becoming history.

She cleared her throat. “Those were some pretty high-grade tingles.”

“So was I close?”

“You were beyond close.”

Satisfaction filled his expression. She’d probably just inflated his ego, times ten, but she didn’t care. When it came to tingles, the man was an ace.

“I’d say that narrows the field. So what exactly did you feel?”

Jana knew what she was feeling now, and she’d zipped right past tingle to outright arousal. When she’d first approached Ben, she’d had absolutely no intention of embarking upon a one-night stand. Now, she was no longer certain she possessed the willpower not to see how far this night would go.

She considered her last sexual encounter in hopes the reminder of what had never happened for her would derail her treacherous thoughts and halt their break-neck pace. It’d been nearly two months before she’d allowed the relationship to move to the next logical step. All in all, the experience had been…nice, she decided. Pleasant, even. She’d been turned on, but miles from the simmering heat Ben had managed to stir with that cute little tongue-on-the-wrist trick.

“After what you just did, I’m sure tingly was the wrong adjective,” she finally told him. “Maybe it was closer to how your feet feel when you take your shoes off at the end of a long, hot day. You know what I mean?”

His attempt to hold back a grin was obvious, but eventually he did. “Sounds more like relief than sexual gratification to me.”

She drained the last of her chardonnay, then shook her head when he attempted to signal for the waitress. “Considering that lack of sexual gratification is under debate here, it seems appropriate. Now, will you please answer my question?”

“Which was?”

“Is it really everything everyone says it’s cracked up to be?”

He settled back in the booth, looking completely at ease and oh-so-sexy. “Yeah. It really is,” he said with a slight inclination of his head. “With the right person.”

Dozens of erotic images cluttered her mind, each more enticing than the last. Images that all ended with three basic elements—her, Ben and the closest bed. “Tell me what it’s like.”

He regarded her with such close scrutiny, she started to fidget with her napkin, nearly knocking over her empty glass. She adjusted the set of her shoulders and aimed for a relaxed appearance. She almost succeeded, too, until he said, “What if I showed you instead?”

BEN TOOK the key to Jana’s apartment from her and slid it into the lock. He didn’t bother debating the wisdom of his decision or waste time with self-recrimination about allowing his testosterone to rule his actions. Even the twenty-minute drive from the Ivory Turtle to her place in Culver City had failed to lessen the need that had been clawing his gut since Jana had uttered those magic words—let’s talk orgasms.

Although his motives weren’t entirely chivalrous, he did feel a connection to Jana. Only, it existed on a level he understood and even welcomed—basic animal attraction. It’d been a long time since he’d experienced such an intense need to be with a woman. After the last few days of hell, he wasn’t in the frame of mind to summon an argument for why he shouldn’t exploit the sexual tension that had been simmering between them since the moment their eyes had first met.

At the very least, he had to taste her, see for himself if her lips were as soft and welcoming as he’d been imagining. And there was the issue of the near physical pain he’d been feeling since she’d slid from the seat of his pickup truck. Her long skirt had caught on the seat, hiking the length far enough upward to reveal slender calves and the barest hint of a shapely knee. Not much by way of exhibitionism, but still too incredibly sexy for him to ignore.

He unlocked the door, then turned toward her and handed her the key. The faintest hint of her unique perfume raised his awareness one more notch. His body flexed as he breathed in the exotic combination of floral and spice.

She moved in front of him to rest her back against the doorjamb. Desire brightened her gaze. Beneath the yellow glow of the light in the small alcove, he caught sight of the rapid beat of her pulse at her throat. The urge to press his lips to her delicate skin, to feel the staccato rhythm against his tongue, had him narrowing the already miniscule distance between them.

“Are you coming in?” Her husky voice, and the way her warm breath feathered against his lips, filled him with an anticipation not even a saint could ignore.

His gaze shifted from her throat to her mouth in time to see her tongue slide invitingly across her plump bottom lip. Daring him to taste her?

“Yes,” he said in response to her question. For once in his life, he refused to think about the consequences of a decision and how it would affect everyone but himself. For once, he chose to act purely on impulse. He lifted his hand to cup her cheek in his palm. “But first I’m going to kiss you.”

The corner of her mouth tipped into a seductive little half smile. “I was hoping you would.”

Forget hesitation. He didn’t bother with a tentative brush of his lips against hers. Gentleness failed when he covered her mouth with his, applying a slight amount of pressure with his thumb against her jaw, urging her to open for him.

He slipped inside. The warm silken glide of her tongue instantly mating with his sent a blast of heat south, hardening him in a flash.

As she wrapped her arms around his neck, her purse hit the landing with a thud. The sound registered in the back of his mind. She held on tight, her gentle curves plastered against him, the swell of her breasts pressing enticingly against his chest. His hands itched to tease her nipples into tight beads. He wanted to taste the taut buds of flesh, explore them with his tongue, hear the soft, arousing moans of her pleasure.

Slowly, her knee rose, rubbing against the inside of his thigh. He nearly came out of his skin. Another three or four inches, and she’d have no doubt how much he wanted her.

The tension and events of the last few days began to ebb slowly, quieted by the silent, sensual demands of the woman in his arms. His sexual attraction to Jana had nothing to do with blowing off steam, or even reconnecting with another human in the most basic way imaginable. What drove him to taste her more deeply, to smooth his hands over her rib cage and upward to cup the weight of her breasts in his palms, stemmed from nothing more than demanding lust.

She ended the kiss long before he was ready to let her go. Little puffs of air fanned his lips as she tried to catch her breath.

Slowly, she lowered her arms and inched away, as if needing distance. Not wanting to break contact with her, he dropped his hands to her hips, preventing a complete escape.

Her lashes fluttered, and she drew in a deep breath. “Now would you like to come in for a while?” The strength and surety of her voice took him by surprise. He could’ve sworn she’d just been gathering her courage.

“Are you sure?” She might have agreed to his suggestion they go to her place where they could be alone, but he wanted, needed, to know she understood exactly what would happen once they went inside her apartment. The kiss they’d just shared had left him with no illusions of exactly what he wanted.

She replied by reaching behind her to shove the door open in invitation. He stooped to pick up her purse then followed her inside, closing and locking the door behind him.

She stood in the middle of the room, a slight frown tugging her eyebrows. Second thoughts? God, he hoped not. He’d never been a fan of cold showers.

A table lamp emitted a soft, buttery glow over the room from atop a square white table, flanked by a pair of blue-and-white, thick-striped chairs. He tossed her purse on the cushion of the matching sofa, then crossed the plush carpet to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless.

Jana’s brief moment of considering that she could be making an epic-quality mistake evaporated the second Ben’s mouth claimed hers in another bone-melting kiss. When she’d first approached him, she honestly hadn’t believed for a second she’d seriously consider a one-night stand with a man she’d just met. She couldn’t decide whether she’d been stupidly naive or unconsciously determined, but before she could solve the puzzle, Ben was gently guiding her backward until her bottom came in contact with the wall.

She slid her arms around his waist, her fingers spanning his rib cage. Beneath the fabric of his shirt, the muscle in his back flexed and danced at her touch, filling her with a unique sense of feminine power, rivaled only by the heated surge of arousal that had her squeezing her thighs tightly together. The coolness of the wall against her skin conflicted with the heat his body generated. He surrounded her, filling her senses with his taste, his touch, his scent. The brush of his fingers against her stomach as his hands tugged her thin blouse from the waistband of her skirt had a pool of something she couldn’t define—tension? need?—gathering in the pit of her belly.

The answer to a question she couldn’t even remember no longer mattered the moment the warmth of his hands cupped her breasts. Through the lace of her bra, he dragged his thumbs rhythmically over her sensitized nipples. She moaned and tore her mouth from his, her head thumping against the wall as she arched her back, desperate for more of his touch.

“Taste me.” Her harsh, whispered demand took her momentarily by surprise. She’d never been much of a talker during sex, preferring instead to communicate her needs with action. Could that have been part of her problem, she wondered?

He made a sound that rumbled up from deep in his chest, dissolving any remaining ability for coherent thought. The instant he dipped his head and gently nipped and laved the slope of her breasts, she forgot her doubts and concentrated on the urgency filling her. With agonizing slowness, he unbuttoned more of her blouse, then pushed the fabric aside until it gathered halfway down her arms. His mouth over her nipple, he suckled her through the lace. She cried out from the shock of such exquisite sensation.

Her breathing faltered, then resumed with short, hard pants. She couldn’t seem to draw enough oxygen into her lungs. The world tilted. No, it spun, she decided. Spun her right off the edge of reality.

She gripped Ben’s shoulders to steady herself. Too late she realized nothing could put an end to the crazy, chaotic wonder gathering with the force of storm clouds inside her.

He moved to the other breast and took her into his mouth. Her knees threatened to buckle, and she attempted to brace herself. Only she couldn’t. If she did, the incredible pleasure she felt by pressing her thighs together would end.

Ben straightened, but he didn’t stop touching her. His hands slid to her throat, then up farther until he cupped her face in his work-roughened palms. The appreciative look in his eyes alone did for her what no lover had ever accomplished; it made her squirm with a need so deep every square inch of her body hummed with anticipation.

Could Chloe and Lauren have been right? Was there indeed something absolutely liberating about making love to a man for the sole purpose of experiencing pleasure? Even the way Ben looked at her, with a heady mixture of awe and desire, stripped her of her usual anxiety, and filled her with a wild, reckless sense of abandonment. Tonight, she reminded herself, had nothing to do with performance, but only with absolute pleasure and gratification.

His.

Hers.

And no regrets, regardless of the outcome.

“I’m going to taste you.”

His words were an enticing integration of velvet and steel. Smooth, yet strong. Like his kisses. Or his touch. Comforting yet demanding.

“Every inch of your skin, Jana. Do you understand what I’m saying?”