The Real Deal Read online

  She jumped and pressed her cheek against the cold tile, and closed her eyes.

  “Relax, baby.” He kissed her shoulder. “Just relax,” he whispered.

  Right.

  He moved his hand away, and she nearly whimpered out loud, nearly demanded that he finish what he’d started, but he was back, his arms around her so that one hand found her breast, while he wedged the other between her thighs again. At the small of her back, his sex lay heavy and pulsing as he found her clit and continued the massage.

  Lightly he bit her nape, worked his way to her earlobe. His mouth’s pursuit barely registered. Her concentration was on his hand, on the small circles that kept getting tighter and tighter until she could hardly breathe. She hunched her shoulders forward and they hit the cold tile, which helped support her weight. He didn’t let up, not on her breast, nor her sensitive clit.

  The pressure kept building inside her, and he rubbed faster and faster, the heat raging in her body to an unbearable fever. The instant she was going to order him to stop, tell him she could take no more, she exploded. Spasm after spasm hit her so hard, so deep, her knees buckled. He stopped fondling her breast and tightened his arm around her rib cage, holding her up, while he relentlessly tried to prolong the orgasm.

  Her entire body trembled. She no longer had the ability to stand, and collapsed against him. He wrapped both arms around her to keep her upright. Turning her around to face him, he kissed her deeply, then scooped her up and carried her out of the shower, and across the bathroom floor.

  “We’re dripping all over everything,” she said breathlessly, though not caring one tiny bit. His mouth had again captured hers, and she shivered against his hot slick body. Never in her entire life had she experienced anything like she had in the past ten minutes. Thankfully she’d stopped outwardly trembling, but her insides still quivered with aftershocks.

  He finally stopped at a silver rack holding a pair of thick cream-colored towels. As soon as he slipped one of the towels around her shoulders, she discovered that the rack was heated. She sighed with contentment, briefly closing her eyes. When she opened them again, he was staring at her.

  “What?” she said, self-consciously touching her hair. She didn’t have to look into a mirror to know that it was a mess, and mostly still damp. The more it dried, the wavier and wilder it would get.

  He stilled her hand, and then put it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the back, and then drew one of her fingers into his mouth and lightly sucked. To her utter amazement, renewed desire stirred in her belly. She leaned into him, reveling in the thick hardness of his penis prodding her belly.

  She lightly palmed the crown, tracing the ridge, before closing her hand around him and stroking down to the base.

  His breath hissed between his clenched teeth. His eyes drifted closed, but only for a moment, and then he grabbed a towel for himself and quickly dried off.

  She released him only when she had to at the last minute, and then got busy drying herself off. Even her hair. No hope there.

  He took her towel and tossed it, along with his, toward the steps to the tub, missing by a mile. “Come on,” he said, placing a hand at the small of her back.

  Emily knew they were headed to his bed, and the fevered excitement radiating from her chest to her belly and lower would have shocked her an hour ago. She simply had never been the type to stay in a prolonged state of arousal. Would never have guessed she could. But she was beginning to see that sex with Nick was anything but typical or ordinary.

  They entered the bedroom, where she hadn’t noticed the second fireplace until he used the remote to turn it on. The room was toasty enough without the orange flames, but it had grown dark outside, and she loved the warm glow it gave the room. Though she wasn’t crazy about the pleated Roman-style blinds being open. As if he’d read her mind, the blinds slowly began descending over the window.

  She turned to look at him. “You have a—” His gaze was on her butt, as he pointed the remote toward the windows.

  “What was that?” he asked, clearly unconcerned that she’d caught him openly staring at the goods.

  “I was going to ask if you have a remote for the blinds, too, but I see that you do.” She hated that she felt awkward suddenly. Totally absurd, considering what just happened in the shower. But then she got another gander at his arousal as he set both remotes on the nightstand, and the awkwardness transformed into a heady sense of power.

  She watched the play of muscle across his back as he pulled back the comforter to expose brown silky-looking sheets. When he plumped up the pillows, she had to smile. He turned back and caught her.

  “What are you smiling at?” He palmed one of her breasts, his large hand gently kneading, his gaze lowering to her mouth.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” He flicked his thumb over her aching nipple.

  “Nope,” she murmured, and then whimpered when he slid his hand between her thighs.

  “Want me to help you into bed?” he asked, his warm breath tickling her ear.

  In answer, she moved her hips against his swiftly hardening penis.

  He let out a hoarse laugh, scooped her up and deposited her on the middle of the mattress. She lay back on the luxurious sheets, her head on the pillow he’d prepared, waiting for him to join her, but he just stood there, his gaze leisurely sweeping the length of her. He briefly touched himself, a strained expression on his face.

  That’s when she remembered and, in alarm, pushed up on her elbows. “The condoms. They’re back in my room.”

  Surprise drew his brows together in a frown and then his lips parted in a curve of amusement. “I think I might have one or two.”

  Oh, God. She squeezed her eyes closed. Of course he did. She opened her eyes only when she felt the dip of the mattress beside her.

  11

  NICK BIT BACK A SMILE as he dug in the nightstand drawer for a condom. He saw no reason to bring out the whole big box and subject himself to a wisecrack. He knew Emily was somewhat embarrassed, and she tended to make smart remarks when she was at a loss. Nothing cutting, mostly funny or unexpected. Hell, he’d smiled more in the past twenty-four hours than he had in a month.

  Keeping his gaze locked on her face, he crawled in beside her, aching with a need for her so great that for the past half hour he’d been mentally reciting Knights’ stats so that he wouldn’t come. In the shower, when she’d started moaning and whimpering and moving against his cock, he thought he was going to totally lose it. He deserved a damn MVP just for restraint.

  “Warm enough?” he asked, lying on his side and casually draping an arm across her ribs.

  “You can pull the blanket up if you want.”

  He shook his head. “I want to look at you,” he said, and drew his hand across her belly. She had a narrow waist, small enough that he could splay his hand from one end to the other.

  She sucked in her breath when he moved his hand lower and grazed the triangle of brown curls. “You have a condom?” she asked brokenly.

  “Yes.” He held up the silver packet that he’d left on the bed behind him. “Anxious?”

  She hesitated, moistening her lips and then slowly nodded, her eyes gleaming with need.

  He’d been teasing and had planned to spend some time tasting her, using his mouth to make her come again, but that simple nod undermined every last scrap of self-control he possessed.

  He tore open the packet, sheathed himself and spread her thighs. Swiftly, he positioned himself between her legs, and pulled up her knees for better access. He paused, his heart hammering in his chest as he stared down at her pussy, and parted her glistening nether lips. She tensed, and he soothingly stroked her inner thighs before finding her opening with his forefinger. He entered her slickness, slowly, retreated and then reentered with two fingers.

  When she moaned and moved against his hand, he couldn’t wait any longer. Withdrawing again, he nudged his cock at her opening and slid in as slowly as he was capable
, allowing her to get used to him. She lifted her hips and clenched her inner muscles around him, driving all reasonable thought from his mind. He pulled back just until she whimpered, and then drove in hard, harder still, faster and faster, gaining momentum until he cried out with his release, emptying everything he had inside of her.

  He collapsed beside her, in a daze, breathing hard, stunned that he’d come so quickly. His heart thumped erratically and his vision wouldn’t seem to clear. Good. He didn’t want to look at her. Not now. Shit. He’d come before he’d even gotten started. She had to think he was one selfish bastard.

  She laid her small hand on his chest and snuggled close. He drew in a shuddering breath and placed a hand over hers, blinking through the haze.

  “You still talking to me?” he said, starting to control his breathing.

  She laughed softly. “Why?”

  “I think I broke a record.”

  “We should call Guinness right away.”

  “Thanks,” he said dryly and then chuckled. “I’m not usually like that.”

  “Um, I dunno.”

  He turned his head and looked directly into her smiling brown eyes.

  “Guess you’re going to have to prove it,” she said, her cheek dimpling.

  He turned on his side and gave her a quick kiss. “What a hardship.”

  Her lips curved in the slow sensual smile of a happy woman, and something odd constricted in his chest. Then she lowered her head and touched the tip of her tongue to his nipple. He’d never been particularly sensitive there, but damn if his cock didn’t twitch.

  “I’ll be right back.” Quickly he rolled over and swung his legs off the bed. Glancing at her over his shoulder, he saw disappointment in the droop of her lips. “Seriously, I’ll be right back. Don’t move. Not one muscle.” He got up. “Okay?”

  She seemed confused, but nodded.

  He hurried into the bathroom and disposed of the condom. By the time he washed up, he was getting hard again. She was lying on the bed just as he’d left her, looking so beautiful his chest ached. When he stopped at the nightstand and took out another condom, her eyes widened. Then she gave him that smile again, the one that turned him into a man he barely recognized.

  “I REALLY SHOULD BE GETTING back to my hotel soon.” Emily quickly transferred her gaze from his bare chest to the dining room window overlooking Central Park. She had on his robe, naked as the day she was born underneath, while he sat only in a pair of navy blue drawstring pajama pants that rode low on his hips.

  She’d purposely sat across from him, hoping to avoid temptation, but that had been a tactical error. Who knew she was such a visual person? Then again, with Nick, she had a feeling there was no winning situation. The man was sexually lethal.

  Refocusing her attention, she bit into her fifth strawberry, quickly bringing the napkin to her lips before the juice dribbled down her chin and onto the robe. “I can’t believe you found strawberries this good in November.”

  He lathered his English muffin with butter, while glancing at the smartphone he’d laid on the table. She could see there was a message waiting for him, but he didn’t pick it up. “What?” he asked distractedly, and then explained, “Ah, my housekeeper shops at some specialty market that has all kinds of exotic year-round fruit.”

  “Oh, right.” It was hard to remember who he was sometimes, and that he pretty much could have anything he wanted. Although all she had to do was glance around the tasteful apartment that had to cost several million bucks. Yet he was so down-to-earth. Except in bed, she thought, abruptly, her gaze drawing to his bare chest. There he became otherworldly, a downright god in his own right. It wasn’t just his perfect body, but the way he knew exactly how and where to touch her. Knew the precise amount of pressure to use when he…

  She nearly choked, covered it up with a cough. “I need to get back to my hotel soon.”

  “You said that.” He put down his knife, his brows drawn together in a troubled frown. “Something wrong?”

  “No, I just don’t want the management filing a missing person’s report.”

  He chuckled, reached under the table, found her crossed legs and casually stroked the underside of her calf. “Let’s see, it’s ten-thirty, not quite twenty-four hours since we left your room yesterday morning. I’d say we have another day before they send out the hounds.”

  “Well, it’s not just that, but tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and I’m pretty sure my phone needs charging.”

  The amusement fled Nick’s face, and he leaned back to study her. “If you want to leave, I’m not stopping you.”

  She immediately missed his touch, the oddly familiar way he’d reached for her. “It’s not that,” she said, shaking her head. Should she point out that at times he’d seemed preoccupied this morning? “This is coming out all wrong.” She laid her napkin on the table, and then folded her hands in her lap to keep from reaching for him.

  He picked up his cup of coffee, sipped from it and looked at her over the rim, the sudden remoteness in his eyes startling. “Go ahead, Emily, say what you want to say.”

  She flinched at his equally detached tone, wondering how the morning had gone so wrong in a matter of seconds. Taking a deep breath, she straightened. “I have a lot of things to do on my list, and I’m sure you do, too, so don’t worry about me sticking around and getting all clingy.”

  He reared his head back. “Did I give you any reason to think that I wanted to be rid of you?”

  “No,” she said slowly.

  He frowned. “So you decided to take the offensive?”

  She thought for a moment. “Not consciously,” she said quietly. Had she? She wrapped her hands around her lukewarm coffee and studied the dark liquid.

  “Emily?”

  Cautiously, she looked up, but couldn’t read his expression. She imagined him standing on the mound, waiting to deliver the next pitch. He’d look exactly like he did now. Blank. Emotionless.

  “Do you want to leave?” he asked, gently.

  “I can’t help thinking you have things to do,” she said, looking pointedly at the cell phone. “And I’m trying to say that you don’t need to feel obliged to entertain me.” She cinched the belt on the robe and pushed back from the glass table.

  He muttered a mild curse. “Wait.”

  She met his gaze, and softened at the regret she saw there.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “My fault. I didn’t mean to be such an ass. Please don’t think it’s because I don’t want you here.” He gestured to the phone. “I have to return a call I don’t want to make.”

  “Okay, I get that.” She lingered, still pushed away from the table, uncertain as to her next move. “All the more reason I should give you some space.”

  He exhaled sharply and ruffled his hair. “Actually, I was hoping you didn’t have plans today.”

  “Nothing specific,” she said, her pulse fluttering. It wasn’t fair having to stare at his exposed chest. Of course she didn’t have to stare, but what else was she supposed to do?

  “What’s on your list?”

  “The Empire State Building, Central Park, um…” Her mind went blank when he got up from his chair and came around the table.

  He slipped the robe off her shoulder and bent down to kiss the area he’d exposed. “Mind if I tag along?”

  “You’ll get mobbed,” she murmured, and then sighed when he slid his hand underneath the robe and over her left breast.

  “Is that a no?”

  “You’re trying to get me to stay inside, aren’t you?”

  “I didn’t say that.” He crouched down beside her, tugged the robe down until her breast was fully exposed and then rolled his tongue over her responsive nipple.

  “What part of this is fair?” she asked weakly.

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re evil.”

  “Mmm.” He pulled the belt free, parted the robe and wedged a hand between her thighs.

  “You can’t be ready again…oh.”
She jerked as he slipped a finger between her lips.

  “You’re nice and wet.”

  She fisted his hair and arched her back, thrusting her breasts at him.

  He suckled her nipple hard, shoved her chair back so that he faced her directly and forced her legs farther apart. He moved his mouth to her belly, kissing and sucking and trailing his tongue lower…

  An odd vibrating noise startled them both. He stopped and swung a look at his smartphone. He didn’t make a move to pick it up, just stared at the phone as if expecting it to attack.

  Emily clutched the gaping robe. The interruption made her feel horribly exposed suddenly, and she pulled the thick fabric over her body.

  Nick leaned back, his gaze still fixed on the smartphone, the tortured expression on his face unsettling.

  “Maybe you should just get it over with,” she suggested softly, half expecting him to tell her to mind her own business.

  He gave his head a small shake and then pushed himself to his feet. Reluctantly he picked up the phone and checked the caller ID. Relief relaxed his features. “It’s only my sister.”

  “Well, answer.”

  At her unintentional bossiness, one side of his mouth lifted. “I can call her back.”

  “No, go ahead. I’ll get us more coffee.” She retied the belt and got to her feet.

  “Hey, Les,” he said into the phone, and then touched Emily’s shoulder. “You don’t have to go,” he told her quietly, and then went back to his sister. “Not you. I was talking to a friend. What’s up? You guys in Vermont?”

  She smiled, grabbed both their cups and headed for the kitchen. The carafe was almost empty, and she debated whether to brew more coffee. If she did, it was almost like giving in and agreeing to stay in the rest of the morning. Not that crawling back into bed with Nick was a bad thing. Oh, God no, not even close. She got all warm and tingly thinking about the delicious things she knew he’d do to her with that clever mouth.

  Sighing, she leaned a hip against the counter and thought about the past few minutes in the dining room, amazed that she hadn’t been the tiniest bit embarrassed. Although she’d been game for the whole New York adventure thing, having preplanned sex with a stranger in the dark was foreign enough to her. What she’d experienced with Nick was beyond the pale. And in front of a window. Good grief.