Royal Baby Collection. Lynn Raye HarrisЧитать онлайн книгу.
space as he pushed the door shut behind her and armed the car’s alarm. “Oh...I get the feeling, maybe I do.” He smiled down at her, his dark eyes teasing.
Kiki ducked around him. “She told me to be careful and that I was an idiot.”
“That’s not what made you laugh,” he said once they were in the elevator.
Kiki shook her head. “Sorry. Not telling.”
He grabbed for her phone, and she pulled her arm back to keep it from him, laughing. “No. You are not reading my texts.”
One strong arm pulled her into his body, his other hand stretching for the phone. She gasped at the full-body contact. And that fast, humor was replaced by fierce sexual energy.
He bent toward her, his mouth coming perilously close to her own. “I did not bring you here for this.”
“Didn’t you?” she asked.
He shrugged, the European male answer to numerous communications. “Maybe I did, but I thought my intention was to take you to dinner.”
“Not very self-aware, are you?”
“So, you expected this?” he asked as he led her with one hand on the small of her back into a nice, but not overly large, apartment.
Curiously impersonal, the decor was what she might find in a high-end hotel.
She turned to face him, very aware of the fact that his hand remained against her, sliding to her waist as she moved instead of dropping away.
The man had no concept of personal space.
“Not when you asked me to dinner.” She’d been pretty sure, once they were alone in his apartment, that the chances of leaving it again quickly were slim, though.
“So, this is not the norm for you?” He seemed oddly satisfied by that thought.
She shook her head. “I don’t have sex with men I’ve just met.”
She’d hardly ever had sex at all. But she’d gone a little nuts with freedom her freshman year, when she was allowed to attend university without a 24/7 bodyguard presence for the first time in her life. So, she wasn’t a virgin.
He took her hat from unresisting fingers and tossed it onto an armchair. “Even on your last hurrah from university?”
“It wasn’t part of the plan, no.”
He examined her, as if trying to read the honesty of her statement.
She had nothing to hide, so she let him look his fill.
Mich’s gaze turned heated, scorching her with unmistakable sexual desire. “I am going to kiss you.”
“Are you?” she whispered.
“I do not think I can help myself.”
“Good,” she breathed against his lips before they connected with hers.
Kiki had been kissed before. Hello kisses. Goodbye kisses. Let’s-make-out kisses. Even I-want-to-have-sex kisses.
She’d never before been kissed like this. His mouth conquered hers with a confidence none of her fellow students had even come close to. Mich didn’t just know what he was doing, he knew why he was doing it and where he expected it to lead.
His lips told her exactly what was going to happen between them with devastating intensity, his tongue taking possession of her mouth as his body would hers.
She didn’t think he was that much older than her, but Mich was light years ahead of Kiki in experience and sexual self-assurance.
And she liked it.
A lot.
She found herself moving backward, his body guiding hers while his lips continued their annihilation-of-her-self-control seduction. Not that she wanted to hold back.
It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t who she was, but Kiki had every intention of taking Joni’s second bit of advice and getting her some of that.
She’d never met a man like Mich, hadn’t known she was capable of responding to someone like this. She could only hope he felt one-tenth of what she did, but even if he didn’t? If this was a one-off for him...she wouldn’t back out.
She wanted. Badly.
For the first time, Kiki understood how the desire for sex could drive totally illogical decisions.
He lifted his head, and her eyes fluttered open. He waited for her vision to focus, for her breathing to even out...at least somewhat.
“Do you want this?” he asked.
She didn’t have to think about it. “Yes.”
Dappled sunlight filtered through privacy panels casting a soft glow in the masculine bedroom. The huge bed in the center of the room should have given her pause, but all she wanted was to be on it...naked, with him.
“You are so beautiful, Kiki.” He shook his head. “There should be better words, but there aren’t.”
Growing up the daughter of a former international supermodel, Kiki had been taught that appreciation for her physical beauty counted for very little. So, why did hearing Mich tell her that he found her really attractive feel so wonderful?
She didn’t have much time to ponder it before he was kissing her again, this time accompanying it with small, barely there caresses along her back, over her buttocks, down her arms, skimming the top of her breasts.
It was more seductive than any direct onslaught had ever been. She craved every new touch, ached for more direct stimulation.
He’d long since discarded his suit jacket and tie, leaving the way clear for her to undo the buttons on his shirt. Her thumbs brushed over hot masculine flesh with each one undone. Unlike a lot of guys at school, Mich didn’t shave his chest, and whorls of dark hair teased her fingers. Giving up on his shirt, she slid her hands over his muscular pecs, enjoying the sensation of warm skin mixed with soft curls of hair.
She found twin tiny bumps, and he moaned as she swiped her forefingers back and forth over his male nipples.
Cupping her shoulders, he pushed the spaghetti straps of her dress down her arm. Heated lips moved from her mouth down her neck and along her collarbone, leaving hypersensitized nerve endings in their wake.
She just let the fabric fall when he reached around and unzipped her dress, leaving her in a flesh-colored strapless bra-corset-slip combination.
His dark eyes flared. “Sexy.”
“Mom taught me that foundations make the clothes.” Even in jeans and a T-shirt, Kiki never wore anything less than a matching silk bra and panties underneath.
“I’m sure your father appreciates her attitude.”
Kiki grinned. “They’re still crazy in love. It’s sickening.”
“My parents as well, as uncommon as that is in our circles.”
“That’s what I want,” she heard herself admitting.
Before she could feel like an idiot, he said, “Me, too.”
“One-night stands aren’t going to get either of us there.”
“Who says this is a one-night stand?”
“What else can it be?”
“Anything we want.”
Maybe he was right. She reached up, tilting her head back for another kiss.
He gave it to her without hesitation, his hands busy on the laces holding her corseted slip in place. Seconds later it was sliding down her body and over the soft swell of her hips to pool with her dress on the floor.
She yanked at his shirt, pulling it out of his slacks so she could get it off him,