The All-Star Antes Up
Page 78
Before she knew what was happening, he had spun her into the corner, where the handrails that ran around the sides of the car met. He took her hands and placed one on each handrail before pulling her knee high up on his hip and holding it there. “Hang on tight,” he said, as he slid his other hand under her bottom and pulled her upward so she was tipped into the corner and braced on her arms.
He bent his knees and came up into her in a swift, devastating motion, making both of them gasp at the contact. It was so good to have him inside her, filling the fiery ache. She braced herself on the handrails, angling her body so he could have easier access.
“That’s it, sugar,” he rasped, shifting his grip to splay her thighs wider. For a moment, he met her eyes, the blue of his scorching. Then he deliberately dropped his gaze to where they were joined, watching as he plunged into her and withdrew, then drove in again.
The leather of his chaps grazed her inner thighs, adding one more sensation to the build of pressure and motion inside her. Tension knotted tighter and tighter in her belly as he filled and emptied her.
And then he lost control, moving faster and faster until she felt the beginning of her second orgasm. When her muscles tightened, he thrust hard and lifted his head to send her name echoing around the enclosed space as he came. While he pulsed inside her, she went over the edge, feeling the wholly different thrill of climaxing around the delicious invasion of his cock. A sound she didn’t recognize as her own wrenched itself from her throat as her insides seemed to melt into liquid bliss.
When he slid out of her, she moaned at the friction against already stimulated nerves. “Easy, sweetheart.” He let her down slowly to balance on her stiletto heels. Her arms had spasmed from holding herself up and she tried to shake them out.
“Cramps?” he asked, using his thumbs to push into the tired muscles in exactly the right places.
“That’s almost as good as the sex.”
“Then I didn’t do the sex right.” He pivoted away to strip off the condom.
“If that sex was wrong, I don’t think I could survive right.” She bent to grab her jeans off the pile.
“No need for those.” He flicked a switch, sending the elevator soaring upward. Once again, his gaze scorched down her body to her boots. “I’ll keep you warm.” He pulled her against him by grabbing her bottom with one hand.
She smacked her jeans against his thigh. “I’m not walking out of this elevator stark naked.”
“Why not? It’s a private elevator direct to my place, and no one’s home but us.” His dimple appeared. “I want to lay you down on my big leather couch and kiss every inch of your gorgeous skin.” He dropped his voice lower. “And taste you. God, do I want to taste you. Then maybe I’ll talk you into bending over the sofa arm and . . .”
“Stop.” She put her hand over his mouth. He touched her palm with the tip of his tongue, a silky, damp warmth. His touch reverberated through her, pooling low and sultry.
The elevator glided to a stop, and the door slid open. Miranda peered out into the light-filled foyer of his apartment.
“I swear it’s empty,” Luke said, amusement edging his voice. He gave her a playful nudge on her butt. “Go ahead. I’ll grab the rest of your clothes.”
She wrapped her jeans around her torso as she stepped out onto the gray stone floor, her heels clicking against the hard surface. She felt awkward and exposed until Luke came up behind her and wound one arm around her waist, bringing her back against him so she could feel leather, denim, and his bare skin touching hers.
“It’s strange walking into your home for the first time without any clothes on. I want to look around, but I feel too . . . naked.”
He blew out an exaggerated sigh against her neck. “Naked is good, but I can offer an alternative.”
“You can give me my clothes,” Miranda said, wiggling out of his grasp.
He put the handful of fabrics behind his back with a grin. “There’s something else I’d like you to wear. Make yourself comfortable in the living room, and I’ll be right back.”
With that he turned and took off down the hall. The chaps outlined the worn denim that cupped his butt so she could see the muscles moving under the fabric. The buckles gave a faint musical chink with each step.
She’d just had two orgasms in an elevator with the most amazing man she’d ever met. If the night ended right now, she could say it was a good one. Instead, it stretched in front of her with all its exhilarating possibilities. Her body hummed with satisfaction and anticipation. She would not think about the fact that this was the end.
When he disappeared through a door, she turned to admire the huge photographs of cowboys hanging on the foyer walls. They were shot as silhouettes against skies of brilliant blue and white or sunset orange and gold. A photo of two cowboys walking side by side, carrying their saddles, drew her closer. One man looked tough and experienced, while the other appeared slight and untested. The older man walked a step in front of the younger, as though he was both leading the way and protecting his companion.
It made her think of Luke and his brother, and sadness for the two men washed through her.
The thud of Luke’s boot heels interrupted her reverie. He held up an extralarge plaid flannel shirt. “This will look better on you than me.”
“Was this originally part of your outfit?” she asked, turning to slip her arms into the sleeves as he held it for her. The fabric was so soft she knew it had been worn and laundered many times.
He bent his knees and came up into her in a swift, devastating motion, making both of them gasp at the contact. It was so good to have him inside her, filling the fiery ache. She braced herself on the handrails, angling her body so he could have easier access.
“That’s it, sugar,” he rasped, shifting his grip to splay her thighs wider. For a moment, he met her eyes, the blue of his scorching. Then he deliberately dropped his gaze to where they were joined, watching as he plunged into her and withdrew, then drove in again.
The leather of his chaps grazed her inner thighs, adding one more sensation to the build of pressure and motion inside her. Tension knotted tighter and tighter in her belly as he filled and emptied her.
And then he lost control, moving faster and faster until she felt the beginning of her second orgasm. When her muscles tightened, he thrust hard and lifted his head to send her name echoing around the enclosed space as he came. While he pulsed inside her, she went over the edge, feeling the wholly different thrill of climaxing around the delicious invasion of his cock. A sound she didn’t recognize as her own wrenched itself from her throat as her insides seemed to melt into liquid bliss.
When he slid out of her, she moaned at the friction against already stimulated nerves. “Easy, sweetheart.” He let her down slowly to balance on her stiletto heels. Her arms had spasmed from holding herself up and she tried to shake them out.
“Cramps?” he asked, using his thumbs to push into the tired muscles in exactly the right places.
“That’s almost as good as the sex.”
“Then I didn’t do the sex right.” He pivoted away to strip off the condom.
“If that sex was wrong, I don’t think I could survive right.” She bent to grab her jeans off the pile.
“No need for those.” He flicked a switch, sending the elevator soaring upward. Once again, his gaze scorched down her body to her boots. “I’ll keep you warm.” He pulled her against him by grabbing her bottom with one hand.
She smacked her jeans against his thigh. “I’m not walking out of this elevator stark naked.”
“Why not? It’s a private elevator direct to my place, and no one’s home but us.” His dimple appeared. “I want to lay you down on my big leather couch and kiss every inch of your gorgeous skin.” He dropped his voice lower. “And taste you. God, do I want to taste you. Then maybe I’ll talk you into bending over the sofa arm and . . .”
“Stop.” She put her hand over his mouth. He touched her palm with the tip of his tongue, a silky, damp warmth. His touch reverberated through her, pooling low and sultry.
The elevator glided to a stop, and the door slid open. Miranda peered out into the light-filled foyer of his apartment.
“I swear it’s empty,” Luke said, amusement edging his voice. He gave her a playful nudge on her butt. “Go ahead. I’ll grab the rest of your clothes.”
She wrapped her jeans around her torso as she stepped out onto the gray stone floor, her heels clicking against the hard surface. She felt awkward and exposed until Luke came up behind her and wound one arm around her waist, bringing her back against him so she could feel leather, denim, and his bare skin touching hers.
“It’s strange walking into your home for the first time without any clothes on. I want to look around, but I feel too . . . naked.”
He blew out an exaggerated sigh against her neck. “Naked is good, but I can offer an alternative.”
“You can give me my clothes,” Miranda said, wiggling out of his grasp.
He put the handful of fabrics behind his back with a grin. “There’s something else I’d like you to wear. Make yourself comfortable in the living room, and I’ll be right back.”
With that he turned and took off down the hall. The chaps outlined the worn denim that cupped his butt so she could see the muscles moving under the fabric. The buckles gave a faint musical chink with each step.
She’d just had two orgasms in an elevator with the most amazing man she’d ever met. If the night ended right now, she could say it was a good one. Instead, it stretched in front of her with all its exhilarating possibilities. Her body hummed with satisfaction and anticipation. She would not think about the fact that this was the end.
When he disappeared through a door, she turned to admire the huge photographs of cowboys hanging on the foyer walls. They were shot as silhouettes against skies of brilliant blue and white or sunset orange and gold. A photo of two cowboys walking side by side, carrying their saddles, drew her closer. One man looked tough and experienced, while the other appeared slight and untested. The older man walked a step in front of the younger, as though he was both leading the way and protecting his companion.
It made her think of Luke and his brother, and sadness for the two men washed through her.
The thud of Luke’s boot heels interrupted her reverie. He held up an extralarge plaid flannel shirt. “This will look better on you than me.”
“Was this originally part of your outfit?” she asked, turning to slip her arms into the sleeves as he held it for her. The fabric was so soft she knew it had been worn and laundered many times.
