Dark Lover. Brenda JoyceЧитать онлайн книгу.
him, sooner or later. Hunting put her at the top of her game. The elevator was set far enough back from the reception that she could easily get to it without being noticed. It was whisper-quiet, too. She stepped inside, her gaze on the backs of the guards, but neither one turned her way. She pressed the single button there. The elevator moved up to the building’s top floor.
She felt the hot sex before she saw it. She felt him. The air was somehow thicker and humid upstairs. Testosterone filled it. Lust thickened her. Most women would drop everything to be with Maclean, and she could hear Becca now, in the throes. Sam paused. The door to a bedroom was ajar. Becca’s cries became deep, uncontrollable sobs. Her own heart was thundering, her body tight. Sam pushed open the door.
She’d forgotten how damn good-looking he was. How unbelievably sexy he was. Becca wept in her climax, sprawled on her belly on the bed, her skirts pushed up to her back. Maclean stood behind her, fully dressed. He was driving hard and deep, steadily, his face strained, at once hard, cold and almost ruthless. He was intent on his own satisfaction.
Becca was out of all control. Ian Maclean was not.
She wet her lips, compelled to watch. How had she forgotten those gorgeous features? Most beautiful men looked effeminate. Not Maclean. In spite of those long-lashed gray eyes and that perfect, almost pretty nose, he had a hard jaw, and high cheekbones. But he was more than that face. She’d never seen him without his clothes, but she knew his body was all long, hard muscle. And mostly, there was his sex drive. Sam had recognized a kindred spirit, in that one way. Maclean was oversexed and probably insatiable.
He’d be hard to please.
Becca’s sobs and moans filled the room. Maclean kept driving, not making a sound. Sam knew Becca had been easy to seduce. She’d bet just about anything that Maclean had never been given a run for his money.
She breathed harder. A terrible tension consumed her now. Well, there was one woman he couldn’t seduce.
Maclean suddenly made a harsh sexual sound, his only one. And he looked up at her.
The moment their gazes locked, Sam realized he wasn’t surprised to see her. In the next second, she saw that he wasn’t blinded by lust. His gaze was gray and clear. As she stared at him, he began to smile, as if he had a secret he really liked.
Sam’s heart turned over, hard.
“Ye took yer time,” he murmured, stepping away from his gasping lover.
Sam was trying to comprehend the fact that, just like at Loch Awe, he’d been expecting her. But her every coherent thought vanished as he reached for his gaping trousers, because her gaze veered to his hands.
Her thundering heart slammed. She forgot to breathe.
He slowly grinned, somehow jerking the zipper entirely up.
He wore a silver ring there.
She’d seen body piercings, of course. Just not there—and not like that.
“Something got yer tongue?” he mocked softly.
She choked and her mind came to life. “Having fun? Because I hate to be the one to ruin your private party.” But she wanted to wipe the perspiration from her cleavage and brow. Her body was rioting. So much for worrying about her sex drive.
“Hot?” His gaze followed her fingers as she wiped the moisture away. “Surely ye’ve seen a cock ring before.”
Sam felt her fake smile vanish. “That was some welcome, Maclean. Too bad I’m not into voyeurism.” She tried to be flippant. “Nice jewelry.”
His brows lifted as he sauntered toward her. “Admit it. I make ye hot, Sam, an’ ye loved watching.”
Sam realized that Becca was scrambling off the bed and racing toward the door. She swallowed, Becca’s exit giving her a much-needed pause. “It was a decent show,” she said, recovering a hair of her composure. “Aren’t you going to go after her?”
“Now why would I do that?” he asked, standing before her. “When yer right here?”
“Oh, I don’t know. To piss off Hemmer? To keep an insider on your next job?” Because walking out on me is a habit of yours?
He laughed. “I don’t care what Hemmer thinks an’ I hardly need Becca. I know ye liked the ring, but did ye like the rest of the goods?”
She inhaled.
Show me the goods.
And she’d dropped her dress…
He was trying to make her recall that moment—his being in control, and the humiliation that had followed. Worse, his image was now engraved on her mind. “I always like eye candy, Maclean.”
“Ye’ve never seen—or had—eye candy like mine.”
Unfortunately she was completely breathless. “Sure of yourself, are you?”
“Very.” His gray eyes remained mocking. He leaned close and murmured, “Ye can take the ring off any time, Sam. Just say when and where.”
He’d walked out on her before, but this time, he was in pursuit. It was hard to think clearly, much less wonder why. And damn it, it was hard to look away from his smoldering gray gaze. His words intensified the currents sizzling in the room. “Gee, a come-on. Last time you weren’t very interested. Why don’t you give that honor to your girlfriend?”
“But I want ye to have the honor.” He seemed amused. “To make up fer my bad behavior at Loch Awe.”
Sam fought thinking about taking that ring off and touching him where it counted. She’d forgotten the attraction that raged between them, against her judgment and her will. But she had not forgotten their last encounter, oh no, and she never would.
And she knew that inwardly he was laughing at her. He was not repentant at all. “I don’t like men coming on to me,” she said flatly. “I call the shots.”
His mouth curled. “Of course. Ye like to be the one seducing yer little boys. Or should I say toys?”
He was right. “Do you have a problem with strong women, Maclean?”
“Aye, I do. I like my women soft an’ hot. An’ we both know ye have a problem with strong men.”
She slowly smiled. “My problem is I’ve never met a man as strong as me—especially in the bedroom.”
His smile was wide. “Now who’s the arrogant one? When yer ready to take a chance, ye’ll find out how wrong ye are.”
Sam had the disturbing notion that he’d give her the ride of her life. “I’m always ready—except when it comes to jet-setting playboys with massive egos like you.”
“Ouch,” he said. “So ye haven’t forgiven me fer Loch Awe. Ye were insulted.”
“I can’t really recall what happened at Loch Awe,” she snapped.
He laughed. “Ye can recall. I left ye standing naked in my salon, instead of begging fer yer favors like all your boys do. I didn’t grovel. I didn’t pant or drool. I didn’t give ye the favor ye wanted me to. Ye were furious with me. Come, Sam, we both know the kind of woman ye are. Ye never forgive an’ ye never forget. An’ we both know ye didn’t forget me.”
Her temper soared. “Frankly, I haven’t given you a thought since last December,” she lied. “Can your huge ego handle it?”
“My huge ego can handle anything—anyway ye want.”
“I’ll pass…like last time.”
“So ye do recall last time,” he said softly. “When I didn’t give ye the chance to say no.”
She trembled, furious.
“Are ye sure ye don’t wish fer a trophy? So there’s no danger that ye forget this night?”