Her Secret Thrill (10 page)

“Think of what?” When she balked, he turned slightly and pulled her against him. There was no one near them, but Natalie still stiffened and tried to pull away. He simply put his arm around her and tucked her right back against him. Grinning now, he said, “Think of what?”

“Let me go, and I'll tell you.”

“Tell me, and I'll let you go.”

She gave him a look, but he gave it right back.

“I'll start taking penalty kisses right here the longer you make me wait,” he said.

That should have ticked her off. Instead it made her wet for him. “I shouldn't tolerate this kind of treatment.”

“Yeah, it's pure torture, I know.”

It
was
pure torture, and he knew it. Making her ache like crazy while fighting against her natural desire to not be so public about that ache. But she didn't force him to end it, either, which she knew he would have if she asked.

He leaned in and took a quick but devastating taste of her mouth. “Clock is ticking.”

She trembled but said nothing.

The second kiss was slower, bordering on being too passionate and personal for a public place. It also bordered on making her not care too much about all that.

“Show me first,” he said, his voice a bit rougher. “Maybe I'll figure it out on my own.”

He was giving her an out. She should take it. She didn't. “You. It made me think of you.”
I think about
you too much. All the time.
She only hoped that wasn't written all over her face.

“Thank you,” he said softly. He kissed her gently on the corner of her mouth, then released her. Which conversely made her want him even more. “Show me.”

This was not how she'd planned this. She should have known that anytime the two of them got together, this would be the result.
And the problem with that was?
she asked herself. The problem was, she was coming too close to revealing her growing feelings for him. Feelings she had to get under control if she was going to continue this. And Lord, she wanted to continue this.

“It's over here.”

He stopped short several feet away from it, pulling her to a stop, as well. The sculpture had been carved from a tree stump that had been stripped of its bark and polished to a rich golden sheen. Erupting from the base of the trunk was a stampede of long horns. Above that, looking like he was bursting from the top of the cut stump, but actually carved from the tree itself, was a cowboy on horseback. His body was bent close to the horse's neck, his hand raised over his head with a looped rope poised to be thrown over the small steer that had broken away from the herd.

“It's…” He didn't finish.

She looked from him to the sculpture, unable to name how she felt in the face of his obvious awe. She'd felt that same tug when she'd seen it. She knew his family bred and sold cattle, but he was hardly a cowboy. And yet something about this piece, even on glossy magazine paper, had pulled her right in and demanded her full attention.

“I know,” she whispered.

She couldn't say how long they stood there. Jake finally pulled her forward so he could look at the artistry more closely, from all sides, never once releasing the tight grip he had on her hand.

She couldn't deny how good it made her feel to know she'd moved him like this. But she also couldn't deny how nervous it made her. This feeling she had right now had nothing to do with pushing sexual boundaries and everything to do with pushing personal ones.

She wasn't sure how it would feel to make love to him now. How could it not start to be more than just two people exploring pleasure?

You're being silly,
she told herself. She was reading way more into this than there was. Likely he was very glad to have been introduced to art that was so personal to his past, but it wasn't going to alter anything else.

For him, anyway.

Still, maybe they should just go back and look at the entire exhibit, she thought, skip the rest of this go-around.

Then he turned to her, and the look on his face told her there was going to be no skipping what came next. She should be strong enough to read the danger signals screaming inside her, but she wasn't Superwoman. No matter what he was or wasn't feeling, what she was feeling was too overwhelming to be denied.

“You ready to leave?” he murmured.

She could only nod.

He traced one finger along her cheek. “I'll be back to see the rest, but right now I want to spend some time alone with you.” He leaned down and kissed her softly. “Thank you for this, Natalie,” he whispered next to
her ear. “I want to take you. Right now. Do you know that?”

She shuddered with pleasure.

“Wonder what we'd look like in bronze.”

“Dear God.”

“On horseback.”

She moaned softly.

He grinned and headed toward the exit.

T
HERE WAS NOTHING GENTLE
about the way they made love this time. And Natalie didn't mind in the least. It was probably better this way. No mushy sentimentality to cloud the real reason they were together.

Jake had her up against the wall of the elevator as soon as the door closed. Thank God her room was on the tenth floor, or she might have been unclothed by the time she got to her room. And not have cared.

“Key card,” he said in a heated groan against the side of her neck.

She fumbled it out of her coat pocket. It took both of them several tries before the green light flicked on.

They stumbled into the room, coats dropping, shoes flying before he tumbled her to the bed. “I want inside you right now,” he demanded.

“Please.”

She pulled his sweater off, he unbuttoned her blouse. He did stop to admire the lacy cream bra and panty set she wore. For about two seconds, before all but tearing it off of her. She heard a hook
ping.

“I'll replace it,” he said, his mouth already on the
heated skin just between her breasts. “You taste too damn good, Natalie.”

She slid his belt free, almost frantic to feel his bare skin against hers. She had no idea what had launched them into this sensual frenzy. But ever since the museum, when he whispered he wanted to be inside her, the two of them had done everything possible to achieve that single goal. The cab ride to her hotel had been torture. The walk through the lobby even worse.

For once Jake didn't push it, make it harder or the ache more exquisite by making her wait. He was in as much a rush as she was, and they had all but run through the lobby. And the ache couldn't have been more exquisite.

She tried to focus on his chest, the way the skin stretched over his muscles, the slight scattering of hair that swirled ever-so-perfectly across his pectorals. But she kept seeing his eyes, the way they looked at her, into her, when he'd thanked her for showing him the sculptures. And it was that look that had her hotter and wetter than ever before.

She couldn't block it out, so she stopped trying. So there was mushy sentimentality, anyway, no matter the ferocity of their need at the moment. It would likely be weeks before she saw him again. Plenty of time to come back to her senses.

“Slide your legs up over my hips, Natalie,” he instructed, his hands already lifting her as he climbed over her. “God, you smell good.”

He paused and dipped his head toward her belly, already pushing her back, but her body was primed for him, and she wanted to feel every inch of him pushed well inside her. Her muscles were aching to clamp
down on him, hold him tightly inside for as long as she could.

“Uh-uh. I want you now.” She tugged his head up, her nails sinking into his shoulders.

He grinned up at her. “Demanding. I like that.” He delayed just long enough to grasp her nipple between his lips. “But I will be back.”

“Yes, yes. Just move up inside— Yes! God, yes.”

“Here?” He pushed deeper inside her and stopped. “Is this where you want me, Natalie?”

“Yes.” Her hips were already pumping, and she could feel the effort it took him not to move. His arms were like steel beneath her clutching fingers—quivering steel.

“Tilt up,” he instructed hoarsely.

She did, and he reached and grabbed a pillow, shoving it under her hips. She groaned long and loud as the position enabled him to sink even more deeply inside her.

“Please,” she murmured, not even sure what she was asking for anymore. Just more of this. Hours of this. Days. Weeks. Eternity.

He held her pinned to the bed, letting her hips barely move up toward him. “Push,” she commanded, almost wild with needing him.

“Say please.”

She opened her eyes in surprise, but although he was grinning at her, the sweat on his brow and the vein ticking in his forehead told her how much this was costing him.

“Maybe,” she managed to say breathlessly. “Maybe not.”

He blew out a long breath of his own as his hips bucked slightly. “You don't play fair.”

“Guess who I learned that from?” She locked her legs more tightly around his hips and pushed against him as hard as she could, her back arching her off the pillow.

His immediate loss of control came in a long, sweet groan as his body took over and gave her what she wanted. He pumped into her hard. She shrieked with the pleasure that plunged through her as she met him thrust for thrust.

He lost control first, his climax an intense release that made him shout. She followed immediately, the sound of him driving her over the top.

Dizzy with the force of their mutual release, she expected him to fall heavily and limply upon her, which he did, but only for a moment. He pushed her hair from her face and found her mouth with his, kissing her long and hard, with more energy than she'd thought he'd have at this point.

Then he left her mouth and began the slow, sinuous trek down her damp, heated body.

“Jake.”

“No way.”

She smiled and let him do what he wanted. After what they'd just accomplished, she feared she might be too sore…then discovered to her grateful surprise just how restorative a gentle tongue could be.

Her head lolled back, her body relaxed…and then he slowly drove her up that sweet peak. Once, then twice…and then one more time—just because he could.

Finally, when she was nothing more than a languid pool of pleasure without an ounce of energy left in her, he climbed up along her body and silently rolled
her against him. He pulled her leg over his thigh and tucked her against his chest, stroking her hair until she drifted off to sleep. Her last thought was that her dreams couldn't possibly top reality.

 

J
AKE STARED UNSEEINGLY
across the hotel room, as Natalie's breath evened out beneath his stroking fingers.

Boy, he was in big trouble.

He didn't even have to look down at her to know just how much trouble he was in. He'd never wanted anyone so desperately as he'd wanted Natalie today. It should scare him how badly he'd needed to make love to her. And it did. Just not enough to make him get up, get dressed and get the hell out of there before he did anything even more stupid. Like tell her he was beginning to get serious about her.

You've only seen her three times,
he argued with himself.
Of course you think you're falling for her. The sex is great. What's not to like?

But that wasn't it, and he knew it. Yes, he was incredibly physically gratified at the moment. But, as much as he'd like to believe that was all there was to this sudden tender spot in his heart, it didn't explain the way he'd felt earlier when she showed him that cowboy sculpture. It should seem sort of silly now, to get all dopey over some old carving. But he didn't feel remotely dopey or silly.

She settled heavily against him as she fell more deeply asleep. He felt that queer dip in his stomach as he gave in to the need to look down at her. Yeah, she was something else in bed, no doubt about that. He pushed a few damp strands of hair from her cheek. But he wasn't thinking about that at the moment. He kept seeing her,
cheeks blooming, when she thought she was being overheard talking to him about sex in the museum. Not that she had any problem talking directly, and quite boldly for that matter. But it tugged at him that for all that she was bold and smart and not afraid to show it…when it came to some things, she was very private and a little shy. And though he liked to push her, he honestly didn't want to change that.

As long as she wasn't shy with him.

And then there was the way she'd gone about choosing what they'd do today. She didn't know him, not really. And yet, she did. She saw things in him others didn't. Certainly none of his associates or friends ever would have looked at him and thought, “Hey, bet ol' Jake would like to hit the local art museum.” But she had.

Perhaps it was because she didn't know him in a professional or family capacity, leaving her free to get to know the real him, with no other knowledge coloring her perceptions.

Whatever the case, she'd deliberately chosen the exhibit today because she thought it would move him…and because she'd enjoy giving him that. And she had enjoyed it. Even when he'd been bowled over by the exquisite detail of the artwork, he'd felt her eyes on him. Him. As if he were as fascinating to her as the piece was to him.

He felt almost…awed by the pleasure she took in giving
him
pleasure. What was really startling was that, rather than feel tied down or fenced in, he wanted to do the same for her. It made him feel incredible to give her pleasure, in ways that had nothing to do with sexual gratification. Maybe too incredible. Maybe that was
why he pushed her, teased her, when they were in bed together. To keep it a game, something they were doing for kicks.

Rather than something he was doing because he was falling in love with her.

You don't know her,
he argued. But he did. And not because he'd dug up stuff about her family. He knew
her.
Maybe not her favorite color or favorite food. But he knew she was sharp and funny and endearingly shy. He knew she could give as good as she got, that she was competitive with herself but not necessarily with others. She expected the best from herself and was frustrated when she couldn't live up to her own expectations. Which might explain why she'd pursued her own path in life, rather than take the predetermined family path.

He wanted to ask her about that. To find out what made her happy, what made her sad. He wanted to know what her favorite color was and if she left the cap off the toothpaste and every other little thing.

Yeah, he was in big trouble.

He must have drifted, because when he looked at the clock again, an hour had disappeared. Natalie was still snuggled next to him. He hated to wake her. It made him wonder what it would be like to wake her up every day.

Apparently his little nap hadn't restored common sense.

When she turned her head to nuzzle his chest, he leaned down and kissed her forehead, then her temple. For such a small action, the pleasure that rippled over him was intense. He really had to get out of this bed. Maybe fresh air would clear this fog from his brain.

And his heart.

He jiggled her arm. “Natalie. Time to get up.”

She only snuggled more deeply.

He sighed. Mostly because he liked it. And he probably shouldn't. Not that much, anyway.

“Time to get up. Plane to catch,” he said softly.

She mumbled something, then tucked her hand beneath her face, her lips parting on a sigh.

If he could have, he'd have made a call and changed her flight to a later one so she could sleep. Tomorrow maybe. Or never. But he had work to do, as well. Dammit.

Well, he knew one sure way to wake her up.

He started by tracing his fingertips down the gentle slope of her back. She arched into him, and he stirred against her. He shifted forward, rolling her to her back. She moaned and arched again as he closed his mouth over the tip of her breast. So damn responsive.

“Jake,” she whispered roughly.

“Mmm.”

She gripped his head when he would have lifted it. He gladly complied with her wishes. He slid his hand down over her stomach and found her wet and waiting for him.

If this is how she woke up every morning, maybe making a commitment wasn't such a scary thing. For the first time, he questioned his all-work lifestyle. But that thought, along with every other one he might have had, vanished when she pushed him on his back and climbed on top of him.

 

N
ATALIE ALMOST MISSED
her plane. She strapped herself in and leaned her head back. She should feel harried and frustrated. She hated rushing, hated not having every
detail taken care of so things ran smoothly. Which didn't explain the smile she couldn't seem to wipe from her face.

Jake had surprised her by asking to accompany her to the airport. He'd claimed that it had been his fault for initiating their last little activity and that getting her safely on her way was the least he could do.

But Natalie hadn't been so sure. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something seemed to have changed between them.

Just because you want it to doesn't mean it did,
she told herself. Jake might be an exuberant lover in bed, but he was also a gentlemen. He always held doors for her and put her first. Even with orgasms, she thought, suppressing a very un-Natalie-like giggle. There was something to be said for good manners, she decided.

Not that she wasn't perfectly capable of opening her own doors, and she certainly had no problem with seeing to his pleasure—in bed or out—before seeing to her own, but she definitely wasn't going to complain if he wanted to take turns at it.

Thinking about pleasure brought her thoughts back to their museum trip earlier today. He'd said his ancestors had settled in the West over a hundred years ago. Her ancestors had come over on the Mayflower. Only, he was more involved in his current family than she was. She knew he worked for the family cattle business, but nothing more. It was odd that she felt as if she knew him so well when, technically, she really didn't know much about him at all.

But it went beyond facts and figures. Even after such a short time together, she could read his moods, sense when he was teasing and know almost before he did
when he was going to turn serious. But that didn't mean he was the kind of man she could live with or even want to spend a significant amount of time with. Sure, he was charming and wonderful when they were together. Wasn't that the whole point? That they share the best of themselves and leave all the reality dreck outside the hotel door?

Hotels. That was another thing. She was already counting the hours until they saw each other again. New Orleans. A shiver of delight raced through her. One of the most decadent cities in the country. And it was his turn to plan.