Читать книгу Secret Affairs - Шантель Шоу, Natalie Anderson - Страница 13

TWENTY minutes later they heard the door lock click. They hid in the dark corner for another moment and dashed when the coast was clear.

‘Get changed quickly,’ he whispered.

Giggling in the women’s, Penny tossed her skirt and top on straight over her togs, scooped up her bag and was out again in less than a minute. Carter was standing in the little foyer, his shirt water-stained and creased, his jaw dark with stubble. He looked sexier and more dangerous than ever.

He held out his hand. ‘Let me take your bag.’

Penny walked quickly. ‘I’ve got it.’

Already people were arriving to use the gym and swim facility and she wanted to get out of there before anyone saw the state she was in.

‘No, let me take it,’ he insisted, blocking her path.

She frowned but he came even closer, speaking through gritted teeth.

‘Look, if you want everyone to see the size of my hard-on, sure, you take it. Otherwise let me just hold it while we get out of here, okay?’

Penny’s jaw dropped.

He put a finger under her chin and nudged it closed again. ‘Don’t act the innocent. You know exactly what you can do to me. Just like I know what I can do to you.’ His gaze imprisoned hers and pierced deep. ‘If you’ll let me.’

Penny felt as if an adrenalin injection had just been stabbed straight into her heart. The feeling flickered along her veins, molten gold—sweeter than honey yet tart at the same time. Tantalising.

He smiled.

Excitement rippled low in her belly, blocking everything—nerves, memories, fears. All were swallowed in the rising heat. She shook her head but smiled back. Him wanting her felt good. He grabbed her hand and stormed them up the stairs and through Reception.

‘Hell, you’re not here already, Penny?’ Bleary-eyed, Jed looked up from behind his desk.

She shook her head. ‘You never saw me.’

‘You and I are having a little chat later.’ Carter scowled at Jed and held the door for Penny.

He flagged two taxis.

‘We can’t share?’ she asked.

‘We get in one of those together now and you know we wouldn’t come back. I’ve got work I have to do.’

Eleven hours later, resentment-filled, she figured he’d done a lot of work. By the time she’d got home, showered, changed and returned to the office, he was already back there and concentrating. He hadn’t moved from his chair for hours. She knew because she’d gone into his office a few times—delivering more of the massive numbers of faxes and courier parcels, more wretched files—and he’d ignored her. Hadn’t even looked up, lost in a world of figures and transactions and tiny details.

And she hadn’t been able to concentrate on a thing—all jumpy and excited and impatient. Until the tiredness from the little amount of sleep had eaten her nerves and now she was grumpy and ready to stomp home alone because he hadn’t even said hello to her all day.

Worst of all, it was only just five o’clock. Theoretically she had another couple of hours to put in first. She glared at her computer screen and banged the buttons on the keyboard.

‘So.’ He suddenly leant across her desk. ‘Your place or mine?’

‘So smooth, Carter.’ She stabbed through another couple of keystrokes.

‘Just answer,’ he said roughly, putting his hand over hers. ‘I’m barely able to pull together two syllables I’m that strung out.’

She looked at his face and was grateful she was sitting down. No muscles could stay firm against the heat in his eyes. And the grip he had on her now was thrillingly tight. It made her feel a lot better about his distance all day and she dropped any idea of holding out for some grovelling.

‘Yours.’ She was glad he’d asked. If she went to his it meant she could leave when she needed to, not have to wait for him to decide to go from hers.

‘Then let’s go.’

‘Now?’

The taxi was already waiting and, even better, the trip was short. Her heart drummed faster than a dance-floor anthem and she concentrated on keeping her breathing quiet and even. He still had hold of her hand and as they rode the elevator up to his short-let serviced apartment he finally broke the silence.

‘You’re tired?’

Actually she was plotting how to handle him. She needed to take charge from the get-go—set the pattern for the evening—and she wanted him on fire as fast as possible.

He must have read her mind because he turned to her the moment he’d closed the door behind them. She melted against him and offered it all, pleased he was so hungry. She wanted him to be uncontrolled, to be in thrall. Passion was powerful and she wanted to succeed in hitting his pleasure high. She moved against him, dancing the way she knew best, her mouth open to his, her fingers working on his buttons—wanting him raw and hot.

But he laughed, low and pure. ‘Why are you in such a hurry?’

Because that way she could control it. She shrugged her shoulders and simply smiled, pressing close again.

But he, damn him, suddenly slowed right down. He swept his lips gently across her skin as his fingers so carefully freed buttons. Why was he taking so long to undress her? Hell, they didn’t even need to get undressed, he could just push her skirt up and pull her panties to the side—she was ready for him, she would ride hard for him—she badly wanted to feel him come.

Instead his hands drifted south and so did his mouth, gently caressing the skin he’d exposed. Until he was on his knees before her and sliding down the zip of her skirt. She twisted, her discomfort suddenly building, wanting to bring him back up, wanting her hands to be the ones taking the lead. But then his fingers slid higher and she flinched, the pleasure so sharp it was too much, and she couldn’t let the sudden rushing feeling swamp her.

Carter had gone completely still. Then he leaned back and looked up so he could see her face clearly as his hand gently brushed down the front of her thigh. ‘I want you to enjoy it.’

‘I will enjoy it,’ she answered softly. But she knew what he meant. He wanted to hear her scream his name.

He stood, his keen eyes catching the way she wriggled back the tiniest bit from him. He swallowed. ‘You don’t want me to go down on you?’

She nodded, glad she didn’t have to spell it out herself. ‘I don’t really like that … I … don’t feel comfortable.’

He looked thoughtful. ‘But you’ll go down on me?’

‘Oh, yeah, I like that.’

‘Well, that’s nice.’ His devil grin flickered. ‘But what turns you on most, Penny?’ He watched her steadily.

The heat intensified in her cheeks and she tried to shrug his question off. ‘Lots of things …’ she mumbled. ‘I like … lots of things …’

His head tilted a fraction to the left as he studied her. ‘Oh, my …’ His arms tightened, his body tensing too as he lanced right through her defences. ‘You fake it.’

Her mouth opened in horror but the gasp never eventuated. Instead the blush burned all the way down to her toes. She blinked rapidly but she couldn’t break away from his all-seeing stare. ‘I do enjoy sex,’ she said when she got her voice back. ‘I like it a lot. It feels good. But … it’s … it’s just the way I am.’

‘You always fake it?’ His eyes widened.

‘Sometimes it’s easier that way.’ She licked her lips—not as invitation, but because her mouth had gone Death Valley dry. ‘Guys like to feel like they’re …’

Carter rubbed his fingers across his forehead.

‘It’s not going to damage your ego or anything, is it?’ she asked, cringing at his obvious surprise. ‘You’d rather I faked it?’

Blunt as she’d been with him before, this was his kind of sledgehammer stuff and she was shaking inside. She was never this honest. But then no one else had ever called her on it either and she was shocked he’d twigged at all, let alone so quickly. The fact was, she did fake it. She had an amazing array of squeals to let the guy think she was there. The Sally chick who met Harry in that movie had nothing on her.

But that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy it. She did. She wanted it and she wanted Carter. The closeness was enough for her, feeling desired and making someone happy even for a few moments made her feel good too.

His gaze hadn’t left hers and surprisingly his smile had gone less devilish, more sweet. ‘My ego can handle you,’ he said. ‘So no faking. Total honesty. Deal?’

‘I want to be with you,’ she couldn’t help reassuring. ‘You turn me on, you know you do. But I just don’t …’

‘Get across the finish line.’

‘But I still enjoy the race.’

He actually laughed. ‘Don’t feel any pressure to perform for me, darling.’ He rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. ‘We can enjoy each other in our own ways. Let’s just see what happens, okay?’

She released the breath that she’d been holding for ever. ‘You’re sure?’ Even for a guy as confident as him she was surprised at his easy understanding.

‘Yep.’ He nodded. ‘I’m sure.’

Carter was trying to stop his head spinning but every thought had just been blown from his brain cells. Wow. He just hadn’t seen that coming and honestly he’d just blurted the thought that had occurred so randomly.

For him enjoying sex was so inextricably linked with orgasm it was as if she were talking in a foreign language. He tried to figure it out—was she not physically capable of coming?

Actually he didn’t believe that. By the pool he’d felt her shaking in his arms, he’d felt the hunger in her mouth, felt the flood of desire between her legs when he’d touched her there. Physically she’d been all systems go.

But at that point she’d literally leapt out of his arms.

So it was her head that couldn’t let go.

Of course, she was a complete control freak. It made sense. That was her job all over—keeping everything in its place and perfect. But at the same time it didn’t make sense. The night he’d met her she’d appeared the absolute image of a hedonist. A beautiful young woman out for fun and frolics and seemingly assured of success should she want it. But it seemed she didn’t want it—at least not on a level that she couldn’t control. Did she pleasure her lovers rather than let them pleasure her? Because that wasn’t right. For him sex was all about mutual delight and exploration. Pleasure for both—give and take.

Women didn’t have total ownership rights on curiosity. Right now it was eating Carter alive. And so was the challenge. How could it not be a challenge? Because this woman could feel it. He could feel her—trembling, all hot and aching. He knew how much she wanted him. So how did he help her let go?

He swallowed again. Like anything it came down to the details. She was so sensitive and maybe it scared her. So he was going to have to take it easy.

She was watching him with a worried look. ‘I’ve probably put you off now.’

And the sweetheart looked as if she utterly regretted that.

He grinned. She didn’t need to worry—she would get every ounce of what he had to give. ‘Not at all.’ Oh, hell, no, now he was all the more desperate to strip her and, oh, so slowly warm her up.

But first what they both needed was a little more time. Just a very little. ‘You know we haven’t eaten,’ he said, tucking his shirt back in. ‘Come on, I’ll make something.’

She looked surprised.

‘You hadn’t missed dinner?’ Now he thought about it, he was starving.

She shook her head. ‘Haven’t had a chance to think about it.’

Carter smiled inside again. That was because she’d been thinking about him. The key was to get her to stop thinking.

He led the way to the kitchen. ‘You don’t mind a cold dinner?’

Penny was feeling so hot—from embarrassment—that cold sounded wonderful. In fact she’d dive deep into a pool right now if she could. By the time she’d straightened her clothes Carter was pouring the wine—crisp and cool enough to make condensation form on the glass.

He pointed to the stool on the far side of the bench. ‘Sit there and talk to me.’

About what? She’d so killed the moment and she was gutted because she did want to have him. Ugh. She should run away, go dancing and forget everything. ‘Are you making any progress with figuring out Mason’s problem?’

She was reduced to talking work.

All he did was shrug as he pulled a bowl from the fridge. An assortment of salad greens. He deftly sliced tomato, cucumber, feta and tossed the chunks in, adding a few olives from a tin after. Her mouth watered; she loved a summer salad.

He got a pack from the fridge and forked smoked salmon from it onto plates. Then he got a wooden board and from a brown paper bag slid a loaf of round, artisan bread. Her stomach actually rumbled as he sliced into the loaf. He sent her a wicked look.

‘Don’t tell me you baked the bread,’ she teased to cover it.

‘Italian bakery down the road.’ He winked. ‘Looks good, huh?’

It looked divine. In five minutes he’d fixed the most delicious dinner and she was seriously impressed. ‘You always eat this healthily?’

‘I work long hours, I’m responsible for a lot of people’s jobs. I need to keep fit so I can perform one hundred per cent.’

He picked up both plates. ‘Come on, we’ll go out onto the balcony. You bring the salad.’

He pushed the bifolding doors wide open The sun was still high and hot but an aerial sail shaded the table and the view of the harbour was incredible. Pity she was too on edge to be able to enjoy it properly.

‘How come it’s you helping Mason? Not one of your employees?’ From all the conference calls and faxes he’d been getting she knew he didn’t usually spend his days on a detailed case analysis like this. He was the boss of more than one entity.

‘He trusts me.’ Carter lifted his shoulders. ‘And he’s an old friend. And I wanted a break anyway.’

‘So this is a holiday for you?’

‘It’s a nice little change.’

‘But you’re still in contact with the Melbourne office all the time.’

He shrugged again. ‘I’m responsible for a lot.’

‘And you love it.’

‘Sure. I like my career. I work hard to succeed.’

Yeah, she’d noticed that about him.

The cool wine refreshed and soothed and now she’d begun to eat she realised just how hungry she was. It was only another five minutes and she’d finished.

He looked at her plate and looked pleased. ‘Better?’

‘Much.’

He went inside and pushed buttons on the iPod dock in the lounge and then came back to the doorway, offering his hand to her. ‘Come on, don’t you like dancing?’

‘To a much faster beat than this.’ But she stood anyway.

He smiled as he drew her closer. ‘You’ve got to learn to relax, Penny.’

The slow jazzy music made the mood sultry and they were barely swaying. His shirt was unbuttoned, so was part of hers, so skin touched. This kind of dancing wasn’t freeing, it was torture. She was uncomfortably hot again, her breathing jagged. A half-glass of wine couldn’t be blamed for her light-headedness, and she’d just eaten so it wasn’t low blood-sugar levels either.

It was him. All him.

And she wanted to feel him wild inside her.

She reached up on tiptoe, deliberately brushing her breasts against his chest. His hand moved instantly to hold her hips tight against his.

She sighed deeply. ‘Can we just get on with it?’

‘So impatient, Penny.’ Laughter warmed his voice. ‘Come on.’

He danced her down the little hall to the master bedroom. She liked the anonymity of the room—only one step away from a hotel suite. There was nothing personal of him around to make her wonder beyond what she knew already. Burning out the chemistry was all this was. One week and he’d be gone. Another month and she would too.

He pressed a button and thick, heavy curtains closed, giving the room an even more intimate mood. ‘You want the lights out?’

‘No.’ She smiled. ‘I like them on.’

He kicked off his shoes and trousers, shrugging off his shirt. She was spellbound by his body. He caught her looking, sent her an equally hot look back. ‘You like to be on top, Penny? You’d like to take the lead?’

She did but she hadn’t expected him to let her so easily.

He smiled and kissed her, but then moved onto the bed. He lay, his shoulders propped up against the bed head, his legs long in front of him, and looked back at her in challenge. ‘Come and get me, then.’

Oh, she would.

She stripped, her eyes not leaving his as she deliberately, slowly shimmied her way out of every single piece of fabric. His expression was unashamedly hot and he openly hungered as she revealed her breasts.

‘You on top works for me,’ he muttered hoarsely.

She’d been worried he’d get all serious—forgo his pleasure in the pursuit of hers and then they’d both end up unsatisfied. But it seemed he was happy to stretch back and enjoy everything easily. Thank goodness.

As she walked to the bed he reached out to the bedside table and swiped up a condom, quickly rolling it on. So he was ready. Well, so was she.

She knelt onto the bed, meeting his unwavering gaze, and began to crawl up his body. His smile was so naughty, so challenging, so satisfied.

But she’d see him really satisfied. She trailed light fingers up his legs as she moved, bent forward and pressed little kisses, little licks. Nothing but tiny touches designed to torment—his thighs, his hips, his abs, his nipples. She’d get to his erection soon—when he begged.

His breath hissed. ‘Are you afraid to kiss me?’

She knelt up and smiled. No. She wasn’t afraid of that. She moved up the last few inches and pressed her mouth to his—and felt him smile.

His hands settled on her hips, pulling her to sit on him, his erection only inches from her wet heat. How the man could kiss. Slow and then firm, his lips nipping and then his tongue sliding. He turned it into an art form. He turned it intense.

She shifted, wanting to move right onto him, wanting to tease him some more. But he took her hands in his and imprisoned them beside her hips—so she couldn’t touch or move. Then he went right back to kissing her. Just kissing. As if they were young teens on a marathon make-out session.

She was getting desperate now—to touch more, feel more—because his kisses were driving her crazy, building the need inside her. Every one seemed to go deeper. Every one increased her temperature another notch. Every one made her kiss back with the same increasing passion—until it was at an all-new level. She closed her eyes, breathless, yearning for the finish.

Finally he kissed down the side of her neck—just a little. She shivered at the first development of touch.

‘Cold?’ he murmured against her

She shook her head a fraction. She was anything but cold.

She was completely naked, so was he, but he didn’t move to take her or let her slide down on him. His erection rubbed against the front of her mound, teasing exquisitely.

She wanted to diffuse his power and have him in thrall to her—just for the moments that they’d cling together. That was how she always liked it—to be close, to be held. Intimacy beyond that was too much for her to bear. But Carter didn’t seem inclined to settle for anything less than absolute intimacy. Her eyes smarted; she shouldn’t have admitted anything to him. She shifted again, eager to move things on more.

‘We’ve got all night, honey,’ he muttered between more searing kisses. ‘I’m not going to explode if I don’t come in the next ten seconds.’

Yeah, but she was afraid she was going to go insane—this was too intense.

She rose above him, escaping his grip, demanding they move forward. She glanced down at the broad, flat expanse of his chest and the ridges of his washboard stomach. He was remarkably fit. And before he could stop her she gripped the base of his erection and slid down on him hard and fast.

His abs went even tighter and she felt his quick-drawn breath, but his expression remained calm.

She smiled because he felt so good. So damn good. And she could make him feel even better. She circled, clenching her muscles at the same time, and watched his reaction—the glistening sheen of sweat, the dilation of his eyes. Yes, now she was back in control.

Sort of.

She moved, increasingly faster, increasingly desperate. She searched for that look—the harsh mask of rigid control that tightened a man’s expression just before he lost it completely. But Carter stayed relaxed, gazing up at her, his hands trailing up and down the sides of her body, letting her set the pace while still teasing her so lightly.

But the thing was, she was tiring, every time she slid up and down his shaft she felt more sensitised—every stroke hammered at her control. Just looking at him made her senses swim, so feeling him like this had her dizzy. Her breathing fractured. She was unable to keep the swamping sensations at bay, and her head tipped back, her eyes closing. Every inch of her skin felt raw, and at that vulnerable moment Carter slid his hand to her breast.

She gasped, bending forward in an involuntary movement. He caught the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her further forward to meet him. He kissed her again, deep and erotic, while with his other hand his fingers and thumb still circled her screamingly sensitive nipple.

She groaned into his mouth, mostly wanting him to stop—and yet not. And he didn’t. Instead he lifted up closer so his body was in a crunch position, his abs pure steel. He wouldn’t free her from his kiss, from his caresses, from the powerful thrusts up into her. Slow, regular, his fingers mirrored the rhythm as they moved to scrape right across the tip of her breast. And she wanted to run, she wanted a break—to slow for a second so she could recover some sense.

But the relentless friction of him against her, inside her and the kisses all combined to bring her to a level of sensation she couldn’t escape. Devastating. She groaned again, desperate—alarms were ringing but nerves were singing at the same time.

He nibbled on her lips, upping the pressure from every angle, the hand at her breast sliding down hard against her belly to below—to that point just above where their bodies were joined.

She couldn’t think any more now. She couldn’t move. Too overwhelmed to be able to do anything but be guided by him and that was too much, too scary. But his hands clutched and controlled. He filled her body and all of her senses—all around her, inside her—holding her more tightly than she’d ever been held. And suddenly she realised—she couldn’t fall because he’d caught her so close and sure. She was all safe—and free. In the prison of his embrace, she could be free.

And now the heat was delicious. Delirious with it, she danced in the flames—and had no desire to escape any more. For the escape was right here in this moment as she moved with him. Groaning, she sank deeper into the kiss, her body yielding, letting him in that last bit more—she could do nothing except absorb all of him as he relentlessly drove into her.

She was so hot, so incredibly hot and wild and free. It was as if a river had burst inside—a lava flow of sensation and heated bliss. On and on he pushed her along it—intensifying the heat and ride to a point where the waves of fire rushed upon her. Her eyes opened for a second and she broke the seal of the kiss as her breath, heart and mind stopped. There was no scream, no cry, just a catch of breath as her muscles clamped and then violently convulsed.

She shuddered, releasing hard on him with an incoherent moan, her hands clawing, so out of control. She was intensely vulnerable and yet utterly safe in the cocoon he made for her.

She went lax, totally his to mould. And he did, hauling her closer still, his grip even firmer, both hands across her back, pulling her so from top to toe she was flush against his hot damp skin. He frantically ground up for a few more beats and in her mouth their moans sounded like magic.

Reality was on some other planet and she was protected from the harshness of it because she was floating in a pool of paradise set at the perfect temperature.

She’d never been out of her mind before but all her reason had been totally submerged. Now she kept her eyes closed as she glided on that warm tide of completion. Every muscle in her body had gone on strike anyway. She couldn’t talk, couldn’t open her eyes, would never move again.

He lay a few inches away alongside her, having eased her onto the sheets a while ago. She didn’t know how long—time was something she couldn’t hope to figure out.

His fingers loosely clasped her wrist and that small connection was just enough. Anything more would be too much, but it seemed he understood that. It seemed he understood a lot.

But he wasn’t gloating, wasn’t lying on his back and beating his chest like a victorious he-man. And he had every right to do that if he wanted. She wouldn’t even mind if he did, she couldn’t, because she was so completely relaxed. Actually, she was absolutely exhausted.

But that was okay, because she didn’t want to think, to talk, to see. In this moment, she just wanted to be.

Carter really wanted to pull her close, but he suspected she might be feeling super-sensitive right now and he didn’t want to overload her system—or freak her out emotionally. Taking it easy was the only way to go. So he fought the instinct to cradle; instead he watched her quietly, waiting for some sign of life. For her conscious reaction.

He already knew her unconscious one. He had his fingers loose on her wrist. He could feel her pulse tripping every bit as fast as his own.

She couldn’t fake that.

Sparks of satisfaction fired in his chest and her sudden smile blew them to full-on flames. Because that smile was full of warmth.

‘Wow.’ Her voice hardly sounded, but he read her lips.

‘Yeah.’ He couldn’t resist—reached out with his spare hand to stroke her hair.

His arms ached even more to hold her. Usually he hated post-coital cuddles—because usually he was too hot and sweaty. And he was damn hot and sweaty now. But he wanted to hold her, to keep the connection open between them. Having her collapse in his arms like that had filled him with the most pure pleasure of his life. He didn’t care about his own orgasm after that—only in that instant it had hit and wiped him out.

But now he watched her eyes as the thoughts trickled back into her brain and she was too tired to hide the vulnerability as they darkened.

‘I should go.’

He rolled onto his side, towards her, his muscles complaining at the movement. ‘I’m only in town for another week. Don’t think you’re spending a minute of it alone.’

‘You didn’t say that earlier.’ Her dark eyes darkened even more. ‘I don’t sleep well in a strange bed.’

‘You slept okay with me by the pool last night.’

She had nothing to say to that. So he pressed home a point designed to lighten the scene.

‘It’ll make it easier to be near you at work knowing I’ll have you with me all night.’

‘Oh, you’re back to that argument, are you?’ She gave him the smile he’d been seeking.

‘Yeah.’ He chuckled. ‘You’ll just have to lie back and think of the company.’

‘But I really should—’

‘Have you honestly got the energy to get up, get dressed and get out of here right now?’ he asked.

Silence for a second, then a very soft answer. ‘No.’

‘Then shut up and go to sleep.’

Her smile was drowsy and compliant and he switched off the light while he had the advantage. In the darkness he listened as her breathing regulated. He was shattered himself, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the experience he’d just barely survived. Yeah, the most challenging moment of his life. He’d been holding back from firing from the moment he’d seen her naked, let alone finally been buried inside her.

She’d been out to claim him—she’d been all tease, all sensual siren, twisting him hard to force his release, not hers. Now he knew why she liked the light on. She watched him as they moved—noting his reactions and adjusting her movements accordingly. Thinking too much—and all about him. On the one hand she was working out what he liked, and that was great. But not to the extent that she wasn’t getting lost in the moment. She was too focused to be feeling it. Like her work, she was determined to be perfect at it. The best. Most guys would lie back and let her, loving it.

And, oh, he had loved it. She’d driven him insane with want for her. But he’d wanted more than that. He’d wanted her to surrender to the exceptional. He’d wanted her to realise and accept this was exceptional. And holding back long enough for her to become overwhelmed by their magic had almost broken him. Now he wanted an hour or so to pass quickly so he could recover even a bit of his energy. Because, although he was utterly drained, he couldn’t wait to do it all again.

Asleep by the pool last night, she’d curled into his embrace so easily, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if it were home. And honestly, he’d enjoyed it. He’d thought that was because they’d both been cold. But he wasn’t cold now and he wanted to sleep like that with her in this big, comfortable bed. So he flicked another switch—the air conditioner—cooling the room enough for them to need a light sheet for cover. And for her to want a warm body to curve into.