Secret Affairs: The End of Faking It / Her Secret Fling / The Ultimate Risk. Natalie AndersonЧитать онлайн книгу.
bent and eyeballed her.
‘I just think it’s better if we keep this on a professional level.’
‘Honey, we’ve never been professional with each other.’
‘We’re adults, Carter. We can try.’ To prove the point, she glanced at him very briefly and offered a tight smile. Then she went straight back to her computer screen.
‘Why do women always have to play games?’ He sighed. ‘Blow hot, blow cold.’ The amusement in his voice shouted out his disbelief. ‘If I kissed you now, you’d be ten seconds to yes.’
‘I’m not playing, Carter,’ she said frostily.
He laughed aloud at that.
But she didn’t see him again the rest of the day. She worked late, ignoring the lump in her throat and the disappointment that he’d taken her at her word. Slowly the office emptied but she couldn’t relax. She really wanted a swim—alone, which meant after hours. It was the only way she could think to ease the aches her muscles had earned from holding her urges in all day.
Jed was on duty tonight so she was in luck. She grabbed her gym bag from her cupboard. She’d log off her computer and collect her purse and jacket later; right now she just wanted to dive into the cool water.
She went via his security station to let him know.
‘I shouldn’t be that long.’ She smiled at the guard. ‘Half an hour tops.’
‘Sure. I’ll lock up in forty, then.’
‘Thanks.’
She changed in the small women’s room. Kicking the bag under the bench, she took her towel out poolside.
She dived in. The cool water felt fantastic on her hot skin. She stretched out and floated on her back for a while, closing her tired, scratchy eyes. Then she pulled her goggles down and did several lengths. It took longer than usual to get into the rhythm, longer still to try to settle her mind. She was so tired yet she had so much painful energy she didn’t quite know what to do with herself—but this wasn’t working. Finally she stopped and trod water at the deep end—furthest from the door. Damn it, she’d get dressed and go dancing instead.
She pulled herself up out of the water and turned to reach for her towel. Only someone was there reaching for her instead. Someone who pulled her fast into hot, strong arms. And as she thudded against the wall of masculinity the shrieking fear transformed into sick relief.
‘Why do you always have to sneak up on people?’ She tried to yell at Carter but it came out like a strangled whisper, her throat all tight with terror.
‘Sorry.’ His hands smoothed over her shoulders, gently rubbing away her trembles. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you.’ He looked back down at the dim room. ‘You’re not supposed to be in here.’
‘Neither are you,’ she snapped. ‘Why are you here?’
‘Isn’t it obvious? I’m looking for you. Why are you here?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ She was swimming, for heaven’s sake. She was trying to work him out of her system by exhausting herself.
His grip tightened and he pulled her closer. Her senses were swimming even crazier now. Yeah, the work-him-out hadn’t worked.
‘You’re getting wet.’ She put up one last, pathetic defence.
‘I don’t care.’
‘Carter …’ she muttered as his mouth descended.
‘You don’t want me to kiss you?’ His lips grazed her temple. ‘To touch you? You don’t want to touch me?’
Of course she wanted that—she ached to touch him. It was way less than ten seconds to yes.
He laughed, pulling her dripping wet pony-tail down the way he liked to, tipping her chin up to meet his mouth. But the laughter died as the kisses deepened and steam rose in its stead.
It was as it had been that first night—a gentle tease to begin with. Until she couldn’t resist opening and he immediately went deeper, pushing for more. She lifted her hand and combed her fingers through his silky, thick hair.
His hands slid down her arms, sweeping the droplets from her skin. The hard heat of him burned through his wet shirt. All steel male—with unmistakable purpose.
She managed the first couple of buttons, but he had to do the rest, until she could spread the two halves of cotton and sweep her hands across the hot planes of his chest. Beautiful, hard and hot for her. He saw the look on her face and suddenly tumbled her to the floor, claiming dominance as she’d known he would. The cold tiles were welcome on her burning skin, helping her see straight for one moment of sanity.
‘Stop.’
He lifted his head and looked at her.
‘You’re a player, right, Carter?’ she muttered breathlessly. ‘This doesn’t mean anything.’
He brushed the back of his fingers along her jaw. ‘Not if you don’t want it to.’
‘Just fun.’ She rocked, desire making her body move instinctively against his. All she ever had was just a little fun. Nothing more. This had an elemental undertone of something serious that she wanted to eliminate, but the need to have him was beyond necessity now. That big black hole deep inside her had been ripped open and demanded some good feeling to fill it. Like the good feeling she got when kissing Carter.
And then he did kiss her. She closed her eyes as he moved over her—slowly nibbling across her shoulders, his hands working to peel her tight swimsuit down, exposing her breasts. He kissed down her sternum, down to her stomach and then looked back up at what he’d bared. His hands lifted and he cupped her. She shivered at the touch, insanely sensitive there. He rose swiftly, his mouth hot and wide as his tongue swirled around one nipple.
She arched violently, pushing her heels down hard on the cool tiles to get her hips higher—hoping he’d just grip them and surge into her. She wanted it to be powerful and fast. She wanted him to be there now.
But damn him he was slow and toying and touching her all over. His hands slipping into soft parts that she usually held reserved. She tried to guide him back, tried to move her own into dominance—to distract him—but he was focused on his own determined exploration. And it was undoing her completely.
Her whole body broke into a sweat. It was as if she’d walked into a steam room—suddenly she was so hot, and she couldn’t get any of the burning air into her windpipe. She writhed more beneath him, trying to make him move faster—move over her and take her swiftly. She needed it to be finished, because she couldn’t cope with heat.
All she wanted was him inside her, riding her, releasing his strength into her. Her mind and body fixated on that one thing—his possession, his pleasure. Not hers. She got hers from his. That was what she wanted. Not this searing way he was playing with her.
‘Carter!’ She gasped as his fingers stroked against the strip of her swimsuit between her legs and then slipped beneath the stretchy material. She twisted, suddenly trying to escape him as the strokes grew impossible to bear.
She was drowning, drowning, drowning in the intolerable heat. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t control anything. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as the sensations become so strong they scared her.
He lifted his lips from her damp skin. ‘Relax.’
How was she supposed to relax? Her toes curled as she flexed every muscle she had, trying to wring the tension from her. But it wouldn’t leave her. Instead it worsened.
He sucked her nipple into his mouth and slid a single finger inside. The agony was too complete and she jerked violently—away from the source of that frightening intensity. Wrenching herself free from his hold and scooting back on the tiles.
He