Authors: Darah Lace
rippled through him. He would allow himself this
one moment of heaven. He would stop her soon.
He heard her ragged breathing. Or was it his?
She took him deeper, and the buzzing in his ears
grew louder, drowning everything else out. He
looked at the clock, vaguely wondering if this was a
dream and the alarm was about to go off. If it didn’t,
he was.
Eleven twenty. Time to stop.
Marcus closed his eyes. He didn’t want to stop.
He wanted to ride it out, to be right where he was
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when he came. Just the thought brought on the
familiar tightening that warned him release was
near. If he didn’t stop her now, there would be no
turning back.
“Char—” His voice cracked, and he attempted to
swallow but didn’t have any spit. He tried again,
desperate to make her hear him. “Charlotte, stop.”
When she didn’t, he gave up his hold on the
table and grabbed her upper arms. He tried to move
backward but couldn’t, which meant she had to.
Before it was too late. Before he took the very thing
he’d told her she shouldn’t have to give.
He pushed at the same time he bowed at the
waist, a painful but effective move that freed him
and sent her tumbling backward. She gaped up at
him, clearly startled by his rough actions. Hell, he
was, too. But at the moment his attention was
required elsewhere.
****
and over his hips then turned away to brace one
hand on the edge of the pool table. The other she was
certain he used to prevent ejaculation. With his head
hung low, his back rigid, shoulders shuddering, she
knew the difficulty it caused him.
Yet, it was her own reaction that shocked her.
She’d done this before but never particularly liked it
or been so excited as a result. She certainly hadn’t
meant to go that far. Just far enough to nudge him
past the point of no return so he wouldn’t argue
when she pushed him onto the table and straddled
him. That had been her plan.
But she’d gotten lost somewhere along the way,
become consumed by him and his response. She’d
wanted to give him everything and take all he had to
give.
“Sorry,” he said, breaking the silence. “I didn’t
mean to hurt you.”
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She pushed off her elbows and sat up. “You
didn’t. Are you okay?”
“I just need a minute.”
A minute for what? To rein in his libido so they
could move on to other and more rewarding
pleasures? Or simply continue with the rewards of
their wager.
Certain either would lead where she intended
them to go, she rose to her feet and stood directly
behind him. She laid a hand on his back.
He flinched. “Don’t.”
So they would be taking the long route as usual.
Sighing inwardly, she picked up the bowl and
hopped up on the table beside him, her thigh against
his. “Open up. This will cool you down.”
Buttoning his jeans, he looked at her, then
averted his glassy green eyes and backed away. “I
think I’ll turn in.”
Uh-oh. She couldn’t let him escape now. “You
can’t.”
“Why not? Our bargain is finished.”
She held up the bowl and dangled the spoon.
“You haven’t claimed your prize.”
He turned and started for his room. “I forfeit.”
Setting the bowl aside, she jumped off the table
and darted around the chair to block his path.
“Forget the bet. You are not walking away from me
like this. Not again.”
He stared past her, his body stiff, hands
clenched at his sides. “Charlotte, if I stay out here,
things are going to happen that we’ll both regret in
the morning.”
“Believe me, I won’t regret a thing.”
His eyes narrowed and locked with hers. “I won’t
use you.”
“Then let me use you.”
He snorted and brushed past her.
Rage, hurt and pure need all battled for the
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upper hand within her. “I can’t believe you’re going
to leave me hanging like this. I’m in the same shape
as you.”
Almost to his door, he offered, “Take a cold
shower. It’s what I plan to do.”
Planting both fists on her hips, she thrust her
chin forward. “That’s right, Marcus. Walk away.
Leave it for another man to take care of.”
That stopped him. Knowing the barb she’d
thrown had hit its mark almost brought a smile to
her lips, but she fought it as he turned to face her.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m sure Grant wouldn’t mind another go for
old time’s sake.”
“You said there was nothing between you and
Wylie.”
She lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “There
isn’t. But it’s been my experience men are faithless
and won’t pass up an adventurous night of hot sex
with a woman who knows what she wants.” She
pivoted on her heel and marched toward her room,
satisfied she’d given him something to think about.
The room suddenly tilted as he caught and spun
her around. His strong fingers dug into her
forearms, painful yet exhilarating in a way she
couldn’t explain. Same as his dark expression.
“Don’t you get it? Yes, you are a beautiful,
desirable woman, but you’re so much more. You
don’t have to do this. There are men who will want
you for who you are, not for what you can do for
them, if you just give them the chance.”
“It’s you who doesn’t get it,” she almost shouted.
“I don’t want that kind of relationship. And right
now all I want is for you to finish what we started.”
“What
you
started.”
“You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it, that you
don’t want me. You’re so hot you’re shaking,
hurting.” She splayed her hands at the base of his
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ribs and slid them upward through feathery black
hair to thumb the coppery disks hidden there. He
shuddered, and she looked up at him. “I can make it
stop.”
He closed lust-shadowed eyes but quickly
reopened them and stared into hers. His jaw worked,
until she thought it would break. He was weakening.
She knew it and licked her lips in anticipation.
He groaned, her only warning before his mouth
slanted over hers. His tongue demanded entrance.
She opened to him. His arms encircled her. One wide
palm cupped the back of her head, angling her for
deeper penetration, the other splayed at the small of
her back, almost crushing her. It was a desperate
kiss. One meant to purge himself of her.
Oh, no you don’t
. Charlotte groped for something
to cling to as she mimicked his actions but found
only the smooth skin of his back and shoulders.
Reaching higher, she clutched his thick black hair
then thrust her hips against his, moaning at the feel
of his hard thickness against her belly.
But he broke the kiss, resting his forehead
against hers, eyes clenched tight, his breath rushing
in and out, hot against her cheek. “I can’t.”
“Don’t do this.” She hated the desperation in her
voice, hated that she sounded as if she were begging,
but damn him she would. She ached to have him
inside her, even if only his tongue in her mouth.
“Please?”
Standing on tiptoes, she tried to coax him with
her lips to continue, but he pulled her arms from
around him and set her at arm’s length. Gently, he
palmed her face with both hands, his fingers spread.
“I do want you, Charlotte. God knows at this
moment almost more than anything in the world.”
He lowered his head, but the kiss he pressed to
her lips was all too brief. She whimpered when he
drew back and dropped his hands to his sides. “But
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there’s one thing I want more.”
Breathless and stunned, by both his tenderness
and his refusal, Charlotte couldn’t move until the
door shut quietly behind him. Then she stomped her
foot. Damn him, he’d done it again. Turned the
tables on her. Staggered her with a kiss and left her
wanting. And totally confused.
What did he mean there was one thing he
wanted more than having sex with her? What did he
want? He’d said she had more to offer a man than
her body. Was that what he wanted? A relationship?
With her?
A tiny thrill raced up her spine, but she
squashed it. If she’d learned anything from her
father it was that men took their satisfaction at
whim. Even men like Marcus.
So why did he try to convince her otherwise?
Was it part of the game? Was she a challenge he
couldn’t resist and denial part of his strategy?
And why did her heart try to convince her that
wasn’t the case? Maybe because Marcus
did
continue to walk away from every pleasure she
offered. Maybe he
was
different from most men.
Hadn’t she suspected as much from the beginning?
Wasn’t that why she kept him at a distance for so
many years?
Or maybe he simply doesn’t want you
.
The thought cut deep, but Charlotte thrust it
aside. He did want her. He’d said so. And she’d felt
his desire as surely as she’d felt her own. Something
she hadn’t been prepared to face.
She fingered her lips, still warm and moist from
his kiss. In the past, she’d lost herself in his touch,
but tonight she’d lost herself in touching him. The
realization that Marcus’s enjoyment could inflame
her own response, one of passion and not just of
physical need, scared the hell out of her. She’d
begged him, for Pete’s sake. She’d never done that
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with another man. She’d never had to.
From the start she had known any involvement
with Marcus other than sexual, wasn’t an option.
Now the stakes were higher than ever. She had
opened herself up to lure him in, and would likely
end up licking her wounds when the weekend was
over and he moved on to someone else. If she were
smart, she would forget everything and be on the
first plane home.
But she couldn’t forget her obligations to the
benefit, the sponsors and most of all, to the children.
She could, however, forget this ridiculous plan to
seduce Marcus. She could suffer the moments they
were together, make it through one more day and
night and get back to life without him in it.
Because if she continued in the direction she’d
meant to go, she might never find her way back.
****
because he thought Charlotte would try to follow
him. In fact, if the icy glint in her blue eyes was
anything to go by, he’d be lucky if she said three
words to him tomorrow. And those would probably
be “go to hell”.
No, he leaned against the door because he didn’t
think he could make it to the bed without his legs
collapsing. His whole body shook from the inside out,
and not just from the aftershock of having her
glorious mouth around him. Though he doubted he
would ever forget those four long and incredible
minutes.
It was the bomb that exploded in his brain half
way through that soul-wrenching kiss that had him
shaken. If he’d made love to her tonight, she would
believe him the same as every man she’d known.
After all he’d learned about her, his goal no longer
had to do with her perception of other men and what
they wanted from her.
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It was about him. And what
he
wanted.
He wanted to know the Charlotte she hid from
the world. He wanted those little moments when she
lowered her guard, when the world disappointed her
and she needed someone. He wanted to be that
someone, to convince her he wouldn’t let her down.
That they had more than a physical attraction in
common. That she could trust him.
No matter how much she denied wanting that
kind of relationship, Marcus was beginning to