I Brake For Bad Boys (7 page)

Erica curved her hand around his neck. “I want you to kiss me.”

His gaze snapped to hers but he didn't need more encouragement than that. Oh, he knew what she intended: to make him hot, then make him stop.

She wanted some payback.

But hell, he was already hot, and stopping wouldn't be easy for her, either. Eventually she wouldn't want to stop. He knew he was right about that.

He lifted himself a little higher until his face was level with her torso. Wrapping his arms around her he tugged her close, tilted his head, and drew her left nipple deep into the wet warmth of his mouth. He sucked, not hard, but he wasn't the least bit timid about it either. His nose pressed into her plump breast and she smelled so good he was already breathing hard.

Her body arched and her hands knotted in his hair. Ian tugged, using his tongue to tease, to flick and lick. Then he sucked some more until they were both shaking.

“That's enough,” she whispered, but without much insistence.

“Not yet.” He moved to the other breast. “Gotta be fair.”

“To you?” she asked on a sigh.

“To these.” And he kissed her right breast with the same enthusiasm. Within moments, Erica moved against him, her belly nudging his chest, her legs shifting with the need to get nearer. He stroked her shoulders, down to the small of her back, and finally over her firm cheeks, kneading and plying the resilient flesh, helping to grind her against his body.

When she was all but lost, he hooked his thumbs in her panties and pulled them down her legs. Leaning back, he looked at her. Her green eyes were smoky with desire, her nipples wet from his mouth, her whole body quivering. With one finger, he stroked the silky black curls on her mound, up, down, pressing in just the tiniest bit until he felt her small, taut clitoris. She groaned.

Jesus, she was the most appealing woman he'd ever seen.

And she was his.

He stood and scooped her into his arms; at the same time, Erica hugged him, pressing her face into his throat. “Where are we going?” Her voice was deep, affected by sexual need.

Regret stung him, but he didn't head for the bedroom. Not yet, he told himself, not just yet. “You're going into the tub and I'm heading to the kitchen.” His voice was unusually gruff.

She jerked her head back. “What?”

Lowering her into the now tepid water, he said, “Relax. Soak. When I'm done with the dishes I'll help you wash then dry you off and give you a massage.”

The water level was high, all but covering her except for her breasts and rosy nipples. He turned away, ignoring her slack-jawed surprise while struggling to contain himself. He would have liked to whistle, but his mouth wasn't working right at the moment and no way could he pucker.

Just as he reached the hall, he heard a furious splash, followed by a soft moan of dismay. He had her right where he wanted her.

Unfortunately, she had him in the same position.

Only she didn't know it, and he did.

 

 

Erica scrubbed herself with a vengeance. Let him help? Ha. She'd let him rot, that's what she'd do. He'd had his chance and he'd walked away. She'd been willing, damn it. Willing and needing and . . .

The problem, at least to her mind, was that when he got near, she couldn't seem to remember that she was the boss. She just went all soft and female. She hated going soft and female.

It made a woman weak and left her open to misuse.

She didn't have enough fingers and toes to count the men who had used and discarded her mother. Her mother would give a man everything—her heart, her home, often even her paycheck. And eventually he'd leave her, devastated and financially broke. They'd had to struggle so many times because of the scoundrels that her mother had grown fond of.

Erica prided herself on being different. Unable to accept her mother's lifestyle, she'd gained her independence early on and she protected that above all else. She said and did exactly as she pleased and never would she let a man dictate to her.

Yet Ian had only to touch her and she lost herself.

She needed to rethink this whole thing. Really, what was it she wanted? She lifted one finger: Ian naked. That would be very sweet on the eyes, not to mention how much her hands—and her mouth—would love it.

She lifted another finger: Ian making love to her. Yes, that would be heavenly.

A third finger went up: Ian at her mercy.

As if a lightbulb went on, Erica suddenly realized she could have all that with only one simple ground rule. Before he touched her again, she'd spell it out to him, then it'd be on him to maintain control, rather than on her.

Now why hadn't she thought of that sooner?

She sat up in the tub and sluiced off the clinging bubbles. She wasn't going to get any cleaner and no way could she relax. She'd just stepped out of the tub when Ian came back in.

He stopped in the doorway, his blue eyes nearly incandescent as they tracked every inch of her body. Subtly, the muscles in his chest and shoulders grew tight until the strength in his upper body was clearly defined. His hands curled into fists.

“Damn, you look good.”

The bottom dropped out of her stomach at the way he said that and how he looked at her. She lifted a hand. “Don't come any closer.”

His back straightened. “What?”

“I mean it, Ian. We have to talk first.”

He looked troubled, and aroused. “Let me help you dry off, then we'll talk.”

“No! I'm the boss, right? Well I say we talk first.” Gaining a little momentum on her attitude, Erica crossed her arms beneath her breasts and waited.

Slumping back against the door frame, Ian cupped one big hand over his crotch and winced. “I'll wait, but I don't know if John Henry will. Jesus, Erica, I'm about to explode here.”

Caught between a laugh of triumph and overwhelming excitement, Erica looked at the straining erection beneath his jeans. Yep, he was plenty in proportion. She gulped. “You walked away from me.”

“No easy feat, I don't mind telling you. But you're the one who set up the rules—that I'd wait on you. I'm trying to do that.”

She wouldn't let him fool her again. “I want you to make love to me.”

He jerked straight. “Yes.”

“What do you mean, yes?”

“I mean, yes. Hell, yes. I'm more than willing.”

This time she did laugh. “But I have some stipulations.”

His biceps bulged. “Name them.”

Oh, Erica could easily see why women got nervous around Ian Conrad. In his hunger, he looked savage and hard and ready to conquer. Only he'd never conquer her. “It has to be just sex.”

His eyes narrowed, intense and bright. “Come again?”

Well, damn, now he was starting to make her nervous. “I don't want you muddying the waters with too much talk, unless it's sex talk. And no more playing games.”

“Games?”

She sighed. Well, she could admit a little, and then he'd have to do the same. “We've both been doing it and you know it. This business of one-upmanship has to stop. We'll both be naked, and if you have any skill at all, we'll both enjoy ourselves. Period.”

For three seconds he looked ready to erupt. His jaw was locked tight, his body tensed as if for attack, and anger practically vibrated off him. Then he let loose with a string of stinging curses that made Erica's heart leap in shock. “Ian!”

He turned away, paced two steps and came back. “No.”

That drew her up. “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean no.” He stared at her hard. “I want more than just sex.”

Her jaw worked several times before she could get the word out. “More?”

He advanced and she—damn it—backed up. Her naked fanny smacked into the ceramic tile wall and in the next heartbeat Ian pressed into her front. “I want
everything
from you, Erica Lee. Everything you have to give.”

Because she didn't understand him, she went on the defensive. “You want to control me.”

“I want your trust.” He pressed a finger to her mouth, halting her denial. “Before you say it, they are not the same thing. I know you keep men at a distance for a reason. I suppose some of what you told me about your mother is to blame for that.”

She tried to speak, but he leaned down and briefly kissed her, silencing her with the warm press of his mouth, the gentle sweep of his tongue. “I want your body, your humor, your cocky sarcasm. I want
you,
Erica. Right now, but tomorrow too.”

Her mouth touching his, she asked, “And the day after that?”

“Always.”

She jerked back so fast her head cracked on the wall, making her wince. “Damn it.”

With a huff of annoyance, Ian's hand opened over the back of her head and rubbed. “Don't be nervous with me.”

“You do not make me nervous.”

“Not physically, no. You want me too, I can tell that much.” He settled his hips into the notch of her legs. “But you're nervous because you're not sure if I'm for real. You're afraid you'll start to like me, to trust me, and I'll walk away.”

“Your ego is massive.”

“Erica.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “Can't you let go just a little?”

She wanted to so badly that it scared her. Then a thought occurred to her and she glared. “What about this woman at work who you want to marry and carry off to the woods?”

By small degrees, he gathered her tightly to him. Erica couldn't draw a breath without feeling some part of Ian, without inhaling his scent. She couldn't move a millimeter without her lips touching his, her body rubbing into him. Once he had her locked close, he whispered, “That's you.”

“Me?” She barely squeaked the word out.

He nodded, bumping his nose into hers.

“But I thought . . .”

“Shhh. Drop your defenses just until tomorrow morning, and then we'll talk about it again. I promise. I'll explain everything.”

“And until then?”

“I'm going to make love to you.” He kissed her softly. “And I'm going to fuck you.” The kiss turned raw and demanding, almost frightening in intensity.

He wrapped one arm beneath her bottom, one across her back, and lifted her. “I'm going to drive you wild, sweetheart, which is what you deserve considering how wild you've made me.”

It all sounded wonderful to her, savage and gentle, raunchy and sweet. Everything she'd ever wanted, and too much to resist. She laced her fingers in his hair and managed a smile. “Okay.”

Relief darkened his face, wrought a groan from deep inside him. “I'll prove to you that you can be yourself with me and I'll love it.”

She almost believed him.

Without thinking about it, Erica wrapped her legs around his waist and returned his kiss. He started walking them to his bedroom and the friction of his rough denim between her open legs inflamed her. He kept kissing her, deep and long, and then she felt her feet touch the floor.

Within seconds, Ian had the coverlet stripped off the bed. He opened a night table drawer and removed a whole box of condoms.

How considerate, Erica thought, wondering how many of them they'd use, but glad they wouldn't have to worry about running out.

“Ian?”

He lifted her onto the bed, stretching her out crosswise, then stepped back to strip off his jeans. Erica rose to one elbow to watch, her breath suspended, her fingers curled into the sheet. He pushed the denim down his long legs and stepped free, then stood there a moment to let her look.

His pelvis was a shade lighter than the rest of his body. His legs were long and muscled, and his big, narrow feet were braced apart. Her gaze slowly rose again until she stared at his erection. He was long and thick and she swallowed hard. “My, my.”

Naked, macho, and to her mind, perfect, Ian climbed onto the bed beside her. Erica wanted to spend at least five minutes just looking at him, absorbing the sight of him, but he didn't give her the chance. He tangled his hand in her hair, took her mouth in a ravaging kiss, then didn't stop kissing her. Not that she wanted him to stop.

If she were honest with herself, she'd admit that she loved his caveman approach, loved the feel of his big hands now roaming her body, gripping her behind, kneading her breasts. She even enjoyed the rasp of his whiskers. From the first, his bold, assertive manner had drawn her. She didn't like wimpy men, but she did like Ian. A lot.

Maybe too much.

She'd wanted him for a long time, she just hadn't wanted to acknowledge it. Now that she had, she felt free—free to indulge her secrets, her desires.

Maybe on Monday she'd thank Cameron and George for speaking out of turn. If they hadn't, who knew what type of guy she might have ended up with? But because of them, she had Ian. And with Ian kissing his way down her throat to her breasts, she knew she was lucky indeed.

Ian knew he should slow down a little, but he couldn't. He cupped one soft breast, thumbed her nipple, then drew her into his mouth for a soft suckle.

Erica squirmed, trying to get closer to him. Putting one leg over hers and pinning her hands above her head, he held her still. When he expected to hear her complaints over the restraint, he got a surprisingly hot moan instead.

Ian lifted his head to look at her.

Why, the little sneak. She liked being controlled sexually. And he liked taking his turn at control, at least in bed. Out of bed, well, Erica's independent nature was part of what he loved.

After transferring both her hands into one of his, he used the other hand to stroke down her body to her belly. “Can I reverse the order?”

She gave him a blank, anxious look.

“Seeing you like this . . . I want to fuck you first, and make love to you after.”

He was so hard it hurt. “Let's see if you're wet enough yet.” Holding her gaze, he pressed his fingers lower, through her dark curls and over slick flesh. Her body arched.

“Open up for me, Erica.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed, then slowly her legs parted.

He looked down to where his large hand completely covered her. “Bend your knees. I want to see you.”

Without hesitation, she did, opening herself fully to him. He took in the sight of her pale thighs laid open, her damp curls, and her glistening vulva. He pressed his middle finger deep. She groaned hard, her hips lifting, her eyes squeezing shut.

“Nice and wet,” he murmured, pleased with how her muscles squeezed his finger. “God, the things I want to do to you . . .”

He pushed another finger in, testing her, filling her. She was aroused enough, wet enough, that there would be no discomfort for her. He pulled out and found her clitoris again, at the same time bending to catch a nipple in his teeth. Her moans turned raw, her body moving with his hand, and suddenly it was too much. He'd waited for this moment, for this woman, too long to hold himself back.

Ian sat up, startling a groan of protest from Erica though he didn't take time to explain. He caught her knees in his hands, spread her legs wider until he could see every glistening pink inch of her sex. He heard her gasp even as he bent, tasting her with his tongue, licking and finally sucking. Erica became frenzied.

He hooked her legs over his shoulders and caught her hips in his hands to keep her still. She tasted hot, sweet, like a woman should. Her fingers locked in his hair, holding him closer to her as she cried out and twisted, as the sensations built and expanded.

With utmost care, he held her swollen clitoris in his teeth for the concentrated rasp of his rough tongue.

Erica came. She cried out in a nearly soundless scream, her legs stiff, her heels digging into his shoulder blades. Before her last shuddering breath had subsided, he was reaching for a condom.

Erica lay there, limp, a little sweaty. Smiling.

Damn, he loved her. In record time he had the condom on and had settled between her thighs. “You'll take me deep, won't you sweetheart?”

Her smile of contentment faded as he again hooked her legs and held them high. He outweighed her by a hundred pounds easy, was big and hard where she was slim and delicate, and still he settled against her.

“Tell me, Erica.” His cock nudged against her sensitive lips, swollen from her climax. In this position, she was completely vulnerable—and they both knew it. “Tell me you want all of me.”

She lifted her hands to his chest, a futile effort to hold him back. Her nails bit into his pectoral muscles as he began pressing inward.

“Tell me.”

She panted. “Yes.”

Her compliance, combined with the wet velvet grasp of her body on the head of his dick nearly forced him into an early release. He gritted his teeth. “Then relax for me.”

She gave a choked laugh. “Can't.”

He pushed in another inch and heard her inhalation of discomfort. Biting off a groan, he said, “You're gonna have to, babe.” He felt himself sweating, felt his every muscle quivering with the effort it took to hold back. “You're clenching. Relax and let me in.”

She took three shallow breaths, then one long, deep one. She closed her eyes, loosened her grasp on his chest, and nodded.

Through his intense concentration, Ian summoned a smile for her. “I love you, Erica.”

Her eyes popped open again, huge and stunned, and he thrust in hard, filling her up and obliterating his last trace of control. He was so deep, a part of her—
his woman
—that holding back became impossible.

Alive with acute, burning pleasure, he stroked in and out and just when he felt his stomach coil, felt his balls tighten and knew he was about to lose it, Erica began countering his thrusts. He heard her raspy breathing, saw the heated rise of pleasure on her face, and he came, aware of Erica joining him, of her body milking his. Aware of the perfection of the moment.

He slumped on top of her, replete, boneless. His weight wrought a moan from her, reminding him of her position. “Sorry,” he murmured, then carefully lowered her legs. Turning his face inward so he could taste the salty warmth of her neck, he rumbled, “You okay?”

She grunted, making him smile again. Damn, from the day he'd met her she'd amused him even while setting him on fire. They were both damp, sticking together, and he never wanted to move.

“Give me a second,” he said, “and I'll make love to you.”

This time she choked, but the sound turned into a low laugh. Her limp arms came around his neck and she contrived a halfhearted hug. “You're something else, Ian Conrad.”

That perked him up. “Something better than what you've known,” he agreed. “Someone you can trust.”

“Maybe.”

He lifted his head to growl at her. “Your second's up.”

“What?”

“It's time to make love to you.” She started to protest, to laugh some more, and Ian kissed her quiet—then went on kissing her for a long, long time. When she tried to wiggle out from under him, he flipped her onto her stomach and kissed her spine, the small of her back, her dimpled bottom.

By the time he finished with that, Erica was again squirming with need. He turned her over, cradled her gently, and this time he took her slow, cherishing her body and showing her that she not only made him crazed with lust, she overwhelmed him with love and tenderness too.

 

 

After nearly two days of uninhibited debauchery, Erica was badly rumpled, lazy, and still so sexy Ian wasn't sure he'd ever stop wanting her. It was nearing ten o'clock on Sunday morning, and he still couldn't glance at her without feeling a rise of sexual awareness. He couldn't hear her breathe without wanting her. And her laughs, her taunts, drove him to the very edge of lust.

Every single thing they'd done had felt like foreplay. He'd showered with her, wanting only to let the hot water ease her sore muscles. Instead, he'd taken her against the wet tile wall with the enthusiasm of a schoolboy on prom night.

He'd pulled out the massage oil, intent on fulfilling his end of the bargain. But Erica lying on her stomach with her beautiful back and shapely ass showing proved more than he could take. The oil got set aside while he kissed her all over, occasionally shocking her, definitely thrilling her. He'd drawn her to her knees to take her from the back, holding her breasts in his hands with his thrusts so deep he hadn't lasted more than five minutes—which was fine since Erica had started coming in half that time.

In the midst of steamy sensuality, there'd been very little personal grooming. Ian let her use his toothbrush and he remembered brushing her long silky hair once, only to muss it again when he carried her out to the balcony to fondle her under the moonlight. He liked having her outside.

Late Friday night, the storm had rolled in, spraying rain on them, leaving them both damp and windblown. Erica had tasted especially fine with her skin dewy.

Thinking of it made him want to taste her again.
Down boy,
he told his overenthusiastic cock.
Enough already. Let her rest.

Saturday morning everything had been fresh from the rain, sparkling clean, and they'd lingered in bed beneath a ray of sunshine slanting in through the open window. Seeing Erica lit by the sun made him more determined than ever to get her to that house in the country, where privacy would allow them to make love outdoors as often as they liked.

Ian was amazed at his stamina. He'd always had a strong sexual appetite, but he'd never been so insatiable that he couldn't seem to stop. Of course, he'd never been with Erica. And he'd never been in love.

She hadn't bothered with makeup at all, but her slanted green eyes looked sexier than ever, especially when they were soft from a recent climax, as they were now. He knew he should get up and cook her breakfast. They hadn't had a full meal since Friday night; Saturday they'd only snacked so neither of them had to leave the bed for long. She had to be getting hungry. He was starved.

But then Erica tucked her head into his shoulder and hugged him, and Ian knew he wasn't ready to move yet.

“I am so exhausted,” she teased.

Touched by a modicum of guilt because he'd awakened her from a sound slumber a few hours earlier by sliding into her from behind, Ian asked, “Are you glad now that you stayed?”

“Yes.” She tilted her face up to see him. “You are imposing, intimidating, insatiable, and very sweet.”

Most of that he couldn't deny, but... “Sweet, huh?”

“Surprisingly so.”

Perhaps now would be a good time to come clean, while she was still calling him
sweet.
He knew she'd want to go home tonight since they both had to work in the morning. But damned if he was ready to let her go. “There are still a few things we need to talk about.”

She yawned and nestled back into his side. “What kind of things?”

He didn't want to start a fight, not when she seemed so peaceful and trusting. But he wanted to start their new relationship with a clean slate. Feeling possessive, he cupped her breast and said, “About why you keep men at arm's length.”

She laughed. “I dunno about that. You're pretty close.” She reached down and encircled his penis, which was thankfully at ease for the moment.

“Physically.” He bit the bullet and added, “But you know I want more.”

She again looked up at him. “Really?” At his nod, she looked very satisfied—and a little shy. “You think there's something about that porn shop that brings people together? I mean, look at Asia and Cameron, and then Becky and George.”

“And me and you?”

“I do like you, Ian. Everything about you. Most especially your honesty.”

His stomach twisted with dread. “My honesty?”

“That's right. You told me up front what you wanted and why. If it wasn't for you being so honest about the whole thing, I think I would have bailed out on you.”

He couldn't bear the thought that he might have missed this special time with her. “Erica, honey . . .”

“I suppose I should be honest too, huh?”

His admission died in his throat. “I'd love for you to trust me enough to tell me about yourself.”

She nodded, causing the silky weight of her hair to glide against his ribs. “You were right about why I don't open up to men. I've never told this to anyone before. Not even Becky or Asia. But my mom . . . well, she was confused. And weak. She always thought she needed a man around and there was always one willing to hang on her. They used her. For sex, for money. She took care of them, playing house and pampering them—until they walked away.”

Ian rubbed her scalp, kissed her forehead. “I'm sorry. But you have to know I'm not like that.”

“I do know it.” Again, she twisted to look up at him. “I kind of think you're the type who would resent relying on a woman for anything.”

“Not true. I'm relying on you to keep me happy.” He caught her chin on his fist and lifted her face more. “You're fast becoming a requirement in my life.”

She grinned, but didn't look like she believed him. “I grew up with men hanging around the house. I hated it. When they were there, my mother thought she had to be perfect. She'd get up early to put on her makeup and fix her hair because otherwise she'd get complaints and insults. It made me so damn mad, but the more I tried to convince her that we didn't need them, the more distant we got with each other. She never relaxed, never let herself just kick back and enjoy life.” Erica shook her head. “She tried to get me to do the same, but I fought her every inch of the way.”

“You're your own person, Erica, not a replica of your mother.” He kissed her temple, hoping to reassure her. “She made her choices and you make yours. That's how it should be.”

Erica lowered her face and hugged Ian. “There was another reason why I refused to primp for them.” She took a deep breath. “When I was about sixteen, the men started looking at me differently.”

Ian stiffened with a mix of disgust and rage. “They didn't—”

“No.” She gave him a teasing pinch, deliberately lightening the mood. “I wouldn't have allowed that and you know it.”

Ian squeezed her so tight she gasped. Erica just didn't realize how susceptible she was as a woman. She considered herself tough, but from her toes to her eyebrows, she was feminine and soft and certainly weaker than the majority of men.