Читать книгу The Honey Trap - Mary Baker Jayne - Страница 8

The hotel suite was heavy with art-deco-style white bevelled panelling and opulent silver detail. The designer had obviously channelled the Roaring Twenties and the room shrieked decadence, from the grey crepe curtains to the massive Salvador Dali print on the wall. Two huge windows across one wall offered panoramic views over the lights of the city, dotted against midnight blue. A sliding panel of frosted glass led to the quilted-ivory bedroom, with its emperor-sized bed and sunken corner bath.

It probably cost more for one night’s stay than Angel earned in weeks on the internship scheme. Thank God she wasn’t paying!

She delved into the mini bar, hidden away inside an inlaid wood cabinet.

‘Champagne okay?’ she called to Seb, who was sat with one leg crossed over his knee on the plush velvet corner suite, admiring the view over the city. What the hell, the Investigator was picking up the bill.

He nodded assent and she dug a couple of crystal flutes out of the cabinet’s lower compartment. She opened the champagne bottle with a dramatic pop that made her jump and poured them a chilled glass of golden bubbles each.

Angel handed Seb his drink and sat down a little apart from him on the sofa, the memory of the heat she’d felt in the bar still fresh in her mind. She couldn’t afford to lose control again, not yet. She had to make sure Steve got those pictures.

His brow puckered slightly. It was clear the distance didn’t please him, but he quickly smoothed his frown.

‘So what do you do when you’re not getting stood up in hotel bars, Angel?’ His cheeks dimpled with the hint of a smile while he sipped the sparkling liquid, which irritated her. Nice to know he found her lack of success with men so amusing. Even if they were imaginary ones. ‘Do you work?’

Did she work? What a question! Obviously she bloody worked. She had to pay the rent like all the other average joes, didn’t she?

‘Yes, I –’ She scrambled around for a job that might sound vaguely plausible, mentally slapping herself for not thinking up a backstory in advance. ‘I’m a, er, reflexologist. Staying in town for a conference,’ she added helpfully.

She hoped that sounded obscure enough to be believable. Reflexology was Emily’s chosen career and it had been the first thing that popped into her head.

‘You don’t look like a reflexologist.’

She laughed. ‘Why, how are reflexologists supposed to look?’

Seb crinkled his eyes. ‘I don’t know, just… not like you. Not quite so…’

‘Ginger?’

His voice was soft when he answered, tangling her gaze in his. ‘I was going to say hot.’

Angel’s stomach lurched in pleasant surprise as the words sank in. She felt a deep-pink blush creeping up from her toes, crawling along her neck and into her cheeks.

She took a deep breath, struggling to compose herself. ‘Well, I’ll just have to prove it to you,’ she said, attempting the bright and flirty. Putting her drink down on the glass-topped coffee table, she shuffled closer and took his free hand in hers.

A crackling pulse of energy slammed through her body when she touched him. She caught her breath sharply and looked up at him, but his eyes were cast down and he didn’t raise them to meet hers. If he’d felt anything, he wasn’t letting on.

Okay, down girl. Rein it in…

His hand was large, tanned and smooth, with a sprinkling of downy hair. Angel turned it over so his palm was facing upwards and started circling gently with the tip of her thumb, just where his hand joined his wrist.

‘You see, this is what we call a pressure point. When I rub just there, it’s guaranteed to relieve stress and cure all known symptoms of jet lag.’

He laughed, revealing perfect straight, white teeth. God, it was an incredible laugh. Deep, bold and unrestrained.

‘What I could really use for that is a shower. I’ve been travelling all day and this suit is starting to feel decidedly lived-in.’ He closed his fingers around her hand and fixed her with a significant gaze. ‘Is it okay if I use yours, Angel? Saves me having to leave you.’

She flushed, looking down at the hand now holding hers. Should she pull her fingers away? She had to find an excuse to leave the room, cool off for five minutes…

‘Um, there’s a pretty fancy bath in the suite. I can run it for you if you want?’

‘Thanks, I’d appreciate it.’

Angel felt a surge of relief as he loosed her fingers. Standing up, she slipped through the sliding glass panel to the other room.

Okay, this certainly made things easier for her. A bath meant he’d be naked in front of the camera without her having to get too close. Too easy. All she had to do was follow him in and make sure he looked good and compromised.

Whatever that meant…

In the bedroom, she turned on two polished brass taps and watched dreamily while jets of water started to fill the corner bath. The round porcelain tub was surrounded by tiles of white marble, with small lights embedded into the stone. She flicked a switch and they illuminated the room with a candle glow.

There was a little bottle of hotel bubble bath on one side, so she threw some of that in too. The room began to cloud with fragrant, spicy ribbons of steam.

That wouldn’t do: the cupboard mirror would mist over and block the camera feeding back to Steve at home. She turned the cold tap up a little and dabbled in the water with her little finger to check the temperature. Perfect.

She walked over to the cupboard now, opened it to see if the camera was doing its job. Yes, there it was, mounted at the back, an innocent-looking little black box. She gave Steve a sarcastic wave and closed the door again.

Her own reflection blinked back at her, showing her apparently now permanently pink cheeks. She noticed her hair had started to escape from its twist and, pulling out the jewelled pins holding it in place, shook it free around her shoulders. Wearing it up had given it a bouncy wave that suited her more than her usual poker-straight look.

Angel could picture Steve’s look of disapproval at the other end of the camera as she kicked off the leopard-print heels and stashed them under the bed. Well, heels might be sexy, but her feet were starting to lose all feeling. She flexed the liberated toes with relief.

She knew she had to go back to the lounge and face Seb. He seemed to be relaxing now, enjoying her company with all the confidence of a man who sensed he was on a promise, but the more he relaxed, the more tense she felt. She just didn’t know if she could control herself with him. If she managed to get him in a compromising position for the camera, how could she stop herself from going further? Just touching his hand had sent her shooting straight to boiling point. Two years of celibacy meant she was coiled tight as a spring, and this was easily the most magnetic man she’d ever met.

Angel went through to the en-suite and splashed cold water on her face in an effort to cool down. She stared at herself in the mirror, willing herself calm, cool, in control; fought the fluttering in her stomach and the bubbling in her nerves. Okay, she could do this…

Slicking on a fresh sliver of lipstick, she slid back through the glass panel to join Seb.

He’d taken off his suit jacket, which was now draped over the back of the sofa. He looked younger in just the white shirt – designer, she was guessing – and far less formal. He shot an approving glance at the loose auburn hair cascading around her shoulders as she walked towards him.

‘Sorry, it’s a pretty big tub. Could take about fifteen minutes to fill,’ she said, plastering on a bright smile. ‘More bubbly to go with your bubbles?’

Reaching out, he took her hand and drew her down next to him on the sofa. ‘Actually I think I’d like to learn more about this ancient art of reflexology,’ he said, his voice soft and low. ‘Maybe I can discover a few of these pressure points for myself.’

She could feel her nipples puckering underneath the skimpy bra as he shifted sideways to face her and cupped both her shoulders in his powerful hands.

‘For example…’ He brushed her hair back over her left shoulder, running gentle fingertips across her warm cheek and down her neck. ‘Here…’ He pressed a delicate kiss under her ear. ‘And here…’ He planted another in the curve between her neck and shoulder, this time letting it linger, leaving his hot, wet lips against her skin for a moment before pulling away. She sucked in her lower lip, stifling a gasp.

Responding on instinct to the warmth surging through her body, she allowed herself to do something she’d been longing to do all evening. She reached out and combed her fingers through his unruly curls, brushing them away from the handsome face. She brought her other hand up to trace the rigid contour of his jawline with her fingertips, felt the taut skin, the coarse sandpaper stubble, the sculpted lips she was longing to feel on hers.

‘We barely know each other…’

‘We both want this, Angel. We’re grown-ups. Does it really matter?’

In answer, she tilted her face up to his, mouth slightly open, inviting his kiss. He brought his lips down to meet hers, kissing her softly as her arms went up around his neck.

Angel felt her body spark into life as the kiss became deeper, hungrier. She parted her lips for him, giving him full access; relished the erotic embrace of his tongue with hers. He explored her mouth with expert skill, his arms reaching out to enfold her and draw her body in towards his.

She was half kneeling on the narrow sofa, her right foot on the floor and the other tucked under her thigh. Shifting a little, she hooked her right leg behind Seb’s so she could move in closer to him. She could smell the musk of his aftershave, distinctive notes of woodsmoke and chocolate. Drawing back from the kiss, she moved her lips down along the sinews of his neck and under the open collar of his shirt.

She pushed her body into his with a little sigh, crushing the breasts that begged to be released from their satin prison into his chest. To her delight, a small moan escaped him when he felt the press of her hardened nipples. He slid his hands down her back to her buttocks, pulled her right up against him.

She knew what he wanted. Bringing her other leg up from the carpet, she planted one knee on each side of his athletic frame, straddling him.

Angel lowered her body to meet his, gasping when she felt the hard arousal through his clothing. Feeling him pressing into her, ready for her, the last remnant of her self-control slipped away.

Seb’s fingertips were caressing her back with a delicate touch, tracing the lines of her shoulder blades before homing in on the fastening of her dress. Dragging the zip down, he slid the flimsy thing up her body and over her shoulders, helped her wiggle free and she sat astride his broad thighs in her underwear, too aroused now to feel embarrassed. He held her back from him for a moment while he scanned the creamy skin, the curves and undulations of her slim frame, and she felt his appreciation for her body stirring between her thighs.

He ran smooth, wet lips along her ears and neck. Pushing her upwards into a kneeling position until his face was level with her chest, she felt her body stiffen as his mouth found its way to the ripe swell of her breasts. He set them free, unhooking her bra and flinging it away to join her dress on the carpet.

She bit down on her bottom lip in appreciation as she felt him clamp his mouth first around one hard, pink peak, then the other, massaging gently with his tongue.

A gasp escaped her when he ran his palm down her body and began brushing a teasing thumb back and forth under the waistband of her thong with the lightest of strokes. Angel leaned forward to kiss him but he held her back, his keen gaze darting over her face to see the effect of his touch. He pressed her parted lips lightly with one fingertip, felt their moisture and the heat of her ragged breath.

His hand slid down further until it slipped between her legs. He groaned with pleasure, feeling the wetness he’d created there, how ready her body was for him. Firmly, rhythmically he moved his fingertips against her, circling and pressing with intuitive skill, smiling with satisfaction as her lashes flickered and her head fell back. She heard a low, soulful moan and realised it was coming from her.

Her brain was fogged now with a hungry need for him. She pressed herself against his hand, groaning as, insistent and unrelenting, he continued to explore her. White-hot climax simmered on the edge of every nerve ending. Oh God, she couldn’t hold it back any more…

No. Too fast. It was all happening too fast.

This was no good. She had to get him to the bedroom so Steve could get his pictures. Summoning her self-control and willing it through her body with a mammoth effort, she pulled away from the feverish, exploring fingers.

‘What about… your bath?’ she panted. She was surprised to hear how different her voice sounded, thick and dripping with lust.

‘You’ll join me?’

‘God, yes…’

He lifted her up and she twined her legs around his back as he carried her through the sliding glass panel into the bedroom.

The mirrored cupboard containing the hidden camera was right behind them when they entered. Aware of the great view Steve was getting of her rear, sliced by the tiny thong, Angel wriggled free of Seb’s strong arms. She grabbed one of the white cotton towels that lay folded on the bed and wrapped it around her.

This wouldn’t do. She was supposed to be seducing him, not the other way round, yet here she was in nothing but her knickers, breathless from his touch, while he was still fully clothed. Her backside alone certainly didn’t warrant a front-page story in the Investigator.

‘What are you doing?’ His voice was hoarse and heavy.

‘No more peep show for you,’ she heard herself say in a teasing tone. ‘Not until I get one too. Strip.’

Seb grinned at her. ‘Yes ma’am.’

He unbuttoned the white shirt, now crumpled and sodden, and tossed it to one side. The tight, bronzed skin underneath was gilded with sweat. It screamed out to be touched, stroked, licked. Angel held herself back with an effort, a spasm of arousal humming through her body.

Finally he peeled off shoes and socks, unbuckled his belt and slid off trousers and boxer shorts, allowing his rock-hard erection to spring free.

‘Now where’s my reward, Angel?’ he said in a low voice, coming towards her in the full, exquisite, quintessentially male beauty of his nakedness.

Over on the bedside cabinet, she heard a barely audible buzz from her handbag, where she’d stashed her mobile phone.

Steve. He’d got the photographs. Thank God!

She removed her towel and hung it carefully over the top of the cupboard’s mirrored door so it was completely covered. Steve would have to get his kicks somewhere else from now on.

That was it: no more camera, no more honey trap. Just a man and a woman in a hotel room. If she wanted to make her excuses and leave, then now was the time to do it.

But clearly that wasn’t going to happen.

Reaching up, she took Seb’s face in both hands for a deep kiss, thirsty to taste him again.

He drew her body towards his until she felt their bare flesh meet. Then he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her thong and slid it over her hips. Wiggling, she shimmied it to the floor.

‘Come on.’ His breathing was husky now, almost a growl. Taking her hand, he led her to the steaming, fragrant bath, its clear water dappled with soapy bubbles. His erection sprang towards his stomach in silent tribute to the milky curve of her buttocks as she sank into the water.

She could feel the water’s embracing warmth cleaving to her body, holding it tight. Seb turned off the still-running taps and lowered himself in to face her. He took her hips in his hands and eased her towards him in one smooth movement, the water buoying her up until she came to rest between his knees. She felt almost drunk, her thoughts hardly audible through the intoxicating cloud of desire.

He drew her face to him between both his hands and locked his lips into hers. The heat between them almost crackled with raw, unleashed energy while he searched her mouth. She could feel his fingers burrowing into her hair, pressing the back of her skull with an animal intensity. Oh, God, it felt good… She twined herself sinuously around his flesh, gliding her body against his; pressing, wanting.

Finally drawing back from the scorching intensity of the kiss, breathless and flushed, he guided her back into a reclining position against the side of the tub.

He seemed to be everywhere, raining down a flurry of fevered kisses on her neck and shoulders, caressing the contours of her hips and waist with his fingertips, one palm making ripples on the water as it moved along her inner thigh. But he was still in control, teasing her, never quite touching her where she longed to be touched.

His lips found their way to the inviting plumpness of her breasts, unable to resist the way they rose and fell rapidly as her breathing became a harsh pant. She could feel the buzz of his stubble while he nuzzled and sucked a hard nipple and she gave a low, longing moan, drawing an answering moan from him.

He moved below the waterline, kissing the white skin around her belly button, planting wet, lingering kisses along the bones of her hips. He looked up at her, his tawny eyes half closed and glazed with desire.

Move up, the eyes seemed to telegraph, and obediently she eased her hips higher up the curved porcelain at her back, lifting her upper body above the water.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his head move down between her thighs. Just like her fantasy in the bar, she looked down at his unruly mop of curls while he flicked his tongue across the soft flesh between her legs and up to where she was waiting, wet and ready for him, crying out for his touch.

She let out a shuddering groan as he lapped his tongue against her, moving its tip in a circular motion, a slow and languorous massage at first, then faster, more urgent. As he heard her pants quicken, he began broad, muffled sweeps up and down, sucking, nuzzling, dipping into her. She reached down and grabbed the hand stroking her thigh, gripped it hard until her knuckles turned white, incapable of letting go until his actions arrived at their now-inevitable conclusion. He brought his other hand up to caress one firm breast, his tongue fluttering faster as she moved her body to the rhythm he set.

‘Ah! Oh… God, Seb!’ Angel felt her body convulse as she surrendered, her orgasm rippling, pulsing, melting through her nerves. She bucked and cried out while the euphoria claimed her, finally sinking limp and spent back into the water.

She heaved a sigh of satisfaction, throwing back her head to savour the soft numbness of afterglow. Her vice-like grip on Seb’s hand loosened and he flexed some feeling back into the fingers while he rested his head against her for a moment, breathless and triumphant.

Goosepimples stood out on her flesh, both from the now-cooled water and the still-fresh sensation of consuming ecstasy. She pulled Seb up into a kiss, tasted herself on his lips, kissed deeper in her gratitude for the pleasure he’d just given her that she longed to return.

‘Over here.’ Taking his hand, she rose from the water and led him over to the bed, where virginal white sheets begged to be violated.

Gently she manoeuvred Seb’s broad, dripping bulk into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. She wrapped her legs around him, kissing him deeply, then guided him down on to the mattress so she was straddling the toned, taut muscles of his stomach. As she looked down at him, his dilated pupils made those overpowering eyes seem almost black. She pushed a few damp chestnut curls away from his face and leaned down to kiss his muscular neck, one hand sliding along the broad expanse of his chest and massaging a nipple tenderly.

Her eyes flickered to the cabinet by the bed, wishing she’d thought to bring some condoms so she could feel him inside her, their bodies moving together to the same rhythm. It hadn’t occurred to her to come prepared. She’d never expected it to go this far.

Seb’s gaze followed hers. ‘You have some?’

She gave her head a regretful shake. ‘There’s the bar toilets. I could –’

‘No. Don’t go. I can’t wait any more, Angel,’ he panted into her ear, his breath harsh and rasping. ‘Please.’

She understood. Reaching down, she took his full, swollen length in her hand. He moaned, blinking hard, as she lightly moved her hand up and down in a smooth, fluid motion, caressing the hot tip with her thumb. Moving his hand to the back of her head, he pulled her lips on to his for a kiss that startled her with its intensity, it was so raw and wildcat savage. It told her he needed this release, at least as much as she had.

She moved her mouth downward on a journey across his wet, shining torso, peppering hot and heavy kisses in her wake. She dragged a groan from his lips, tracing one nipple with the tip of her tongue and half kissing, half sucking at its hard peak. Continuing her journey down, she reached her target.

She felt him shiver as she took him into her. She could feel him, every inch of him, sliding back and forth in the snug, wet grip of her willing mouth while she moved her tongue in a circular motion around his ridge. With the flat of her nails she brushed his inner thigh, matching her speed to the buck of his hips.

The sheet tightened under her body as he knotted the cotton in a fist. It felt like his whole broad frame was ready to pop, needing her to unleash the primal energy pent up inside.

‘Don’t stop… ah! For Christ’s sake, Angel, please don’t stop now,’ he pleaded, choked with delicious agony.

His moans became louder, more ragged, more vital, and his back arched as she pushed him past the point of no return. She felt his whole body convulse and he let out a groan that seemed to contain his life’s essence as he fell into the oblivion of climax.

She paused a moment, then slid panting back up his body to where he lay, breathless and satisfied, on the pillow. He tilted his head to kiss her, the lips soft, tender, the bestial intensity of before now banished.

‘Oh God… that was incredible. You were incredible,’ he whispered, wrapping her in powerful arms.

‘Not so bad yourself.’ She planted a small kiss on the end of his nose. He smiled at her in the dim light and returned her kiss sleepily.

She snuggled into him, exhausted, satiated and happier than she’d been in an age. Silencing the nagging voice of conscience, she dismissed all thoughts of Steve, work, Carole Beaumont and the honey trap, letting herself fall into dreamless sleep in Seb’s reassuring embrace.