Most U.S. servicemen trusted her enough to tell her what they did for a living, but Javier wasn’t one of them. That meant the work he did was highly classified—or that he worked for a private contractor that specialized in covert ops.
He could be an arms dealer for all you know.
There was no doubt. He
was
dangerous.
Somehow that thought left her feeling even more aroused.
You need to buy a battery-operated boyfriend.
Even if she’d had one, she wouldn’t have been able to bring it along on her travels. She was pretty sure she’d get into less trouble if she were caught smuggling an AK-47 into Dubai than if she were found in possession of a vibrator.
Javier handed her the wine glass, his warm fingers grazing hers, striking sparks off her skin. He slid into the seat across from her. “This place gets crowded.”
She glanced around them. “It’s Friday night. Most of the city is shut down. Expats have to do something with themselves.”
“Cheers.” He raised his beer glass and drank.
Her gaze locked with his, desire for him driving all other thoughts from her mind.
She set her glass aside, leaned toward him, lowering her voice to a whisper, her pulse spiking as she shared what was on her mind. “Will this conversation get awkward if I tell you how very much I want to fuck you?”
Javier leaned against the paneled elevator wall, Laura’s extra key card in his pocket next to the condoms he’d bought in the bar’s restroom. Anticipation coiled inside him, made his blood run hot, his mind filling with erotic images. Laura naked on all fours, head down, ass up. Laura on her back, her thighs on his shoulders as he went down on her. Laura riding him, her breasts in his hands.
You’re
loco
, Corbray. If you get caught…
He glanced covertly at the security camera, knowing that no one was actually watching to make sure he got off at the sixteenth floor instead of the nineteenth.
Room 1927.
She was waiting for him there.
And, God, he hoped she was naked.
No, he hoped she hadn’t removed a thing.
He
wanted to undress her.
Hell, he didn’t care. He just wanted to be there, in her room, inside
her
.
He paced the length of the elevator, the car not moving nearly fast enough.
Fifth floor. Sixth. Seventh.
¡Puñeta!
Fuck!
When was the last time he’d hooked up with a woman he’d met in a bar?
He’d been twenty-three going on stupid. He’d met a pretty
chula
, taken her back to his place, and had a night of empty, meaningless sex that had been followed by a week of hoping he’d never see her again.
But Laura Nilsson wasn’t just some college girl. She was an accomplished journalist, a household name back in the U.S. Hell, half the world knew who she was. Why had she chosen him tonight when she could have had any man in that restaurant? He was just a
Boricua
from the South Bronx. She had money, good looks, brains.
Worried you won’t measure up,
pendejo?
Fourteenth floor. Fifteenth. Sixteenth.
He didn’t think he’d ever met a woman who was as direct as she was. First, she’d told him she wanted to fuck him. Then she’d laid down her conditions.
I want you to understand that I don’t plan on getting married or having kids. This weekend—it’s just a weekend. Nothing more. Okay?
No strings. That works for me, too.
Truth be told, it turned him on that she knew what she wanted.
Eighteenth. Nineteenth.
The elevator car stopped, a tiny bell giving a
ding
as the doors opened.
He stepped out to find the hallway empty, not a security camera in sight.
He glanced at the polished, bronze-plated sign on the wall and followed the directions down the long corridor toward her room, drawing the key card from his pocket and slipping it into the lock.
A buzz.
The light flashed green.
He opened the door and walked in.
She stood just inside the door, the bedside lamp lighting the luxurious room behind her, spilling over the neatly made bed. She was barefoot but still dressed, her pupils dilated, her lips parted, her breathing rapid and shallow. She took one step toward him, threw her arms around his neck and rose on tiptoe to kiss him.
He drew her hard against him, his lips meeting hers for a kiss that lit him on fire—skin, blood, and bones. Her lips were soft, her clever tongue teasing his, her body sweet in his arms. He felt her shift, one of her hands fumbling with his zipper.
The woman wasn’t wasting time. Fine by him.
He wanted her
now
.
Without breaking the kiss, he slid a hand into his pocket, drew out a condom, and pressed it into the palm of the hand that had freed his cock. While she took care of that, he took care of her, backing her against the wall and reaching beneath her black dress to cup her through the irritating silk of her panties.
¡Diache!
Holy shit!
She was already wet.
He grabbed the elastic band and broke it with a jerk, ripping her panties off her body and tossing them aside. Then he let his fingers explore the slick sweetness of her pussy, nudging apart her plump labia, teasing her swollen little clit, sliding a finger deep inside her.
She gasped, gave a hungry little whimper, spreading her legs for him, her hand rolling a condom down the aching length of his cock as he fingered her.
When the condom was in place, he grabbed her ass, lifted her off the floor, and pinned her against the wall with his weight, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist as she opened herself to him. And with a groan, he buried himself inside her.
She turned her head to the side, her cheek pressing into the wall, her voice a breathy whisper. “
Oh. God!
”
She felt so damned good, her pussy closing around his cock like a fist.
Tight. Hot. Sweet.
He moved inside her, giving her time to get used to him—three slow thrusts that almost blew his mind. And then he was driving into her hard and fast, fucking her with an urgency that took him by surprise, aware only of her and his need for her.
The musky scent of her arousal. The sweet sound of her moans. The tightening of her thighs around his waist. The bite of her nails through the cloth of his shirt. The look of sexual bliss on her face.
Her exhales became a whispered plea. “
Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!
”
Faster, harder he thrust into her, his hips a piston. He fought to hold on, fought to finish her first, willing himself to last long enough. His mouth found the sensitive skin beneath her ear, kissing, sucking, biting. She felt so good, tasted so good.
He felt her stiffen, heard her breath break, and had just enough time to silence her cry with a kiss. She arched in his arms, her inner muscles clenching around him as she came, driving him headlong toward the brink—and over the shimmering edge.
Orgasm slammed through him with all the force and heat of a blast wave. He buried his face in her throat, groaned against her skin, his body seeming to come apart in her arms. And for a time, they stayed that way—him inside her, his face pressed against her throat, her fingers in his hair.
He lifted his head and looked into a pair of beautiful blue eyes. And he could see she was as surprised as he by what had just happened.
“I’m not done with you.” She kissed him.
Javier kissed her back. “I sure as hell hope not.”
CHAPTER THREE
Laura felt him withdraw from her and lower her to her feet. She caught just a glimpse of his cock—still half-hard, wet, uncut—the sight of him making her pulse quicken. Then he turned and walked to the bathroom to clean up, condom in hand, her gaze following him.
Hadn’t she known he’d be good in bed? They hadn’t even reached the bed yet, and her body was still humming with satisfaction at what had been one of the most intense orgasms of her life.
At five-foot-ten, she wasn’t exactly petite. No man had ever done what Javier had just done, lifting her off the ground and fucking her up against the wall like that. For that matter, no man had ever ripped her panties off her body, as if he couldn’t wait long enough for her to take them off. What Javier had done had left her feeling intensely feminine, something inside her melting to find a man who could handle her sexually aggressive nature, even surpass it.
She got aroused again just thinking about it.
“Wow.” His voice came back to her from the bathroom, and she knew he’d discovered the sunken tub. “My room doesn’t have one of these.”
As big as a twin-size bed and two feet deep, it had Greek columns that reached to the ceiling from each of its four corners, its tiles painted in ruby reds, sun yellows, emerald greens, and lapis blues.
The toilet flushed, and she heard water running in the sink.
Javier stepped out of the bathroom. “I had to flush it.”
“What?”
“The condom.” He walked toward her, the top button of his jeans still undone, a trail of hair disappearing behind his waistband. “I didn’t want to toss it in the trash where the maid could find it.”
“Oh. Yes. Good idea.” She hadn’t thought of that. She supposed now was a good time to bring this up. “I use long-term contraception, so I’m protected. As long as you know you’re safe, we don’t need to use condoms.”
He reached for her. “Believe it or not, I don’t make a habit of this. I’ve been tested, so I know I’m clean. Now where were we?”
“I was about to undress you.” She reached for him.
He caught her wrists, stopped her. “No, I was about to undress
you
.”
She was used to being in control, used to taking the lead, but something about him—his absolute confidence, his physical size and strength—made her want to yield.
She had just a moment to register that surprising fact before he kissed her, his lips caressing hers softly this time, his hands catching the cloth of her dress. He broke the kiss, stepped back, drew her dress over her head, letting it fall to the floor, leaving her to stand there wearing only her black silk bra.
His gaze slid slowly down her body, fixing on her pubic area and the trimmed triangle of dark blond curls there, before sliding back up her body again. “Turn around.”
She did as he asked, moving slowly, watching his face over her shoulder, his hungry expression leaving no doubt that he liked what he saw.
He reached out, unclasped her bra.
She caught it, held it in place over her breasts just to tease him.
But he seemed to have enough to keep him busy, one big hand cupping her bare ass while the other reached round, splayed across her belly, and drew her backward.
She leaned back against him, felt the heat of his lips against the skin of her shoulder, the hand that had cupped her ass sliding over her hip and down to her pussy. His fingers began to play with her in slow strokes, making the most of the wetness her orgasm had left behind. Her clit was extra sensitive as it always was after she came. He seemed to know this, his teasing delicate but relentless.
And her arousal began to build again.
She moaned, her head falling back on his strong shoulder, his tongue hot and slick as he nipped and licked the skin beneath her ear.
“I want to feel you. Drop the bra,
bella
.”
Bella.
Spanish for “beautiful.”
She did as he demanded, black silk falling forgotten to her feet.
He slid his free hand up the skin of her rib cage, groaning when he found her breast, squeezing it gently, his touch making her nipples draw tight.
She had no idea how long they stood there like that, her head resting against his shoulder, one of his hands busy between her thighs, the other playing with her breasts. Her hips began to move, her body greedy for release. “Oh, God, don’t tease me.”
He chuckled. “Think I can keep you on the brink like this all night,
bella
?”
Her head rolled back and forth against his shoulder in protest. “No! No, no.”
“Then let me taste you.”
Whispered against her ear, the words almost made her knees go weak.
“
Yes.
”
He scooped her into his arms as if she were weightless, reaching the bed in two strides. Then he dropped her on the mattress, grabbed her ankles, and dragged her toward him till her ass was even with the edge of the bed. He drew her legs apart, forced her knees to bend, his gaze fixed on her exposed and aching pussy, the expression on his face making her heart thud. “
Jesus!
”
Anticipation coiled tightly in her belly as he dropped to his knees, guided her feet so they rested on his shoulders, and parted her with his fingers
He gave her a long, slow lick. “Mmm.”
Her insides clenched.
She reached down and slid her fingers into his dark hair, her eyes drifting shut as he explored her with lips and tongue.
Oh, but the man knew how to use his mouth! The velvet friction of his tongue against the opening of her vagina. The sweet tug of his lips on her clit. The gentle suckling. One sensation collided with the next, her breath coming in pants and moans, her hips lifting off the bed, her body shaking.
It had been so long since she’d felt like this—sexually strung-out, her body hovering in that bright shimmering place that came just before an orgasm. The pleasure was almost unbearable, every stroke of his lips over her clit making her moan, her vagina aching to be stretched, penetrated, filled. “Fuck me with your fingers!”
He gave a groan, two thick fingers sliding inside her and moving in time to the action of his mouth, driving into her deep and hard.
Oh, God, yes!
She came with a cry, climax surging through her in rippling golden waves, her inner muscles gripping his fingers, his mouth keeping up its rhythm until she was breathless and spent. She lay there for a moment, floating.