Intimate Strangers

One

The moment the elevator stopped moving, she was shrouded in darkness. Thankfully though, she wasn’t alone and that fact reassured her. Especially since the man standing at her side reached out to take her hand in a show of comfort. She gripped it like a lifeline, warm, rough and firm.

“Are you alright?”

“Uh-huh,” she lied, certainly not wanting to admit any silly fear of small spaces or her completely irrational fear of the dark. That accent of
his cut right through her defences since the moment he offered a polite ‘hello’ a few minutes ago when she entered the elevator.

“You certainly don’t sound as though you’re alright,” he chuckled, closing the short distance between them.

She couldn’t focus on anything except for his scent and the way she saw him before the lights went out. Standing over six feet tall, very deeply tanned with a set of dark chocolate eyes deep enough to lose one’s self in, close-cropped chestnut hair, and deliciously sensuous lips, the man who shared her small prison for the time being was incredibly gorgeous.

“What is your name, my darling?”

Though just mere words, they sent shivers down her spine. If spoken by anyone else, they might have come across as condescending. The man standing beside her was anything but. In fact, she recalled his broad shoulders and sinewy, chiseled body being quite delectable. Besides, she was a sucker for a sexy man with an accent.

“Chelsea,” she admitted, feeling relatively brave, in spite of the severe lack of clothing she had on. The short elevator ride from the hotel pool to her floor hardly required her to change from her bikini. “You’re South African.”

His laughter enveloped her, deep, dark and suggestive. “That I am. Rather, I was. I denounced my citizenship.”

She couldn’t help but gasp, turning her gaze up to where she thought his eyes might be in the darkness. “Why?”

Silent for a moment, he moved even closer, encompassing her with his warmth while not quite touching more than her hand as he replied, “There are certain things a man should not disclose to a woman in the dark. That explanation would fit snugly into this category.”

“Oh…Okay, I’m sorry.”

Nosey idiot
, she chided herself, attempting to wrap the hotel towel around herself yet again – in vain. Why didn’t they make these things big enough to cover a normal sized human being?

“Chelsea,” he whispered her name.

So close.

Too close.

Close enough that if he wanted to, he could probably run his hot, wet tongue along her earlobe…

“Uh, yeah?”

She didn’t even know
his
name yet.

I should ask him
, Chelsea thought,
before
…

His mouth covered hers, firm and possessive just as she opened hers to ask his name. A strangled moan slipped from her throat as the man damn near stole her breath. He kissed as if he meant to brand her, all-consuming and life-altering. His hands went through her hair, sending droplets of water raining down to her sandaled feet, all while thrusting his tongue with hers in a way that had her wondering what it would feel like between her thighs.

Despite their situation, and the fact that she didn’t know who he was, none of that mattered when he pulled back the towel and held her against him. Through his well-worn denims – Chelsea noticed them and the way they encased his muscular thighs before the power went out – the unmistakable bulge of his arousal pressed snugly to her abdomen. It spurred a wildfire inside her, setting off a series of explosive charges that incensed her need.

“Ah, Chelsea,” he groaned next to her ear. “I need to touch you. Tell me you want me to.”

Oh my
.

Anything he wanted, needed, she was his. “Yes, please.”

With her breathless consent, he reached behind her neck, pulled at the ties for her bikini top and released her to the dark air around them. Then, just like that, he pulled away and left her slumped in the corner. Chelsea inhaled a shaky breath and attempted to steady herself as a dim glow illuminated the man before her. His cell phone, she thought wryly, gripping the bar across the mirrored wall behind her.

“Sorry my darling, but I had to see you.” He propped the phone up with his shoes, which he’d removed, in the opposite corner then returned to her like a man on a very important mission. “Christ…you are absolutely stunning.” His eyes swept over her, leaving a heated trail in their wake.

She felt so bared, so wicked, and it was all because of this stranger. Chelsea had only ever been with one man, her ex, and they were together for a year before they got this intimate. That was a while ago now, shortly after she graduated from high school. Steven’s betrayal not only broke her heart but also destroyed her faith in the opposite sex altogether.

Since then, she’d never even kissed another man and now here she was, standing topless in an elevator with a stranger.

Dropping to his knees, he gazed up at her with reverence shining in his expression, his hands gently cupping her waist. A question touched his dark eyes, nearly charcoal now, and she nodded, all but begging him to remove her bikini bottoms. It had nothing to do with the fact that they were cold and wet, but that she wanted him to see her, see all of her.

And touch her.

Very slowly, almost excruciatingly so, he pulled at the ties, tugging the bows until they were finally undone. With each tug of the strings, he brushed his rough fingertips along the edge of her hip bones, down the indentation of her inner thighs. Chelsea shivered at the thought of those fingers delving past the barrier of her bathing suit.

“I want to taste you… Hell, I
need
to taste you,” he murmured against her thigh. Obviously he didn’t require her permission this time. He simply tore the fabric from her body and trailed a succession of hot, open mouthed kisses leading upwards to the apex of her thighs, while parting her legs with one hand. “My God, you even smell sweet…like the finest milk and honey. Your scent reminds me of home, my darling.”

Frantic with need, she only half-listened to his ramblings, silently begging him to get on with his torture and give her the release she so desperately required. Either the man was a mind reader or he could tell how bad she wanted his touch. One finger sought her slick entrance, edging far too slowly towards the very center of her aching need. When he finally made contact with that bundle of nerves in her core, she very nearly died on the spot.

“Oh yeah, Chelsea. You need this, don’t you?” He lathed his tongue over the aching nub and she cried out, gripping his shoulders for support. The guy chuckled under his breath and resumed his torture, all but forcing the wave of release over her.

Her knees turned to jelly and she dropped onto her backside on the floor, panting like she’d just run a ten kilometre marathon. He simply grinned, like the Cheshire cat, obviously pleased with himself.

Suddenly embarrassed at her state of undress, she reached for something to cover herself with but he grabbed her arm and brought her wrist to his lips. He touched a few sweet kisses to her pulse point and then up to her palm. The graze of his teeth elicited a gasp.

Grinning at her in the dim light, he dropped her hand so he could pull his shirt over his head and discarded the garment to his right. “Looks as though we might be stuck here for a little while yet. What do you suggest we do?” One of his dark brows arched slightly as the corner of his mouth turned up.

Chelsea knew exactly what she wanted to do, gazing at the most incredible body she’d ever laid eyes on. The man was pure muscle, sculpted to perfection. Not a single blemish marred his bronze, chiseled torso and washboard abdomen.

Boldly, she worked her fingers over his flesh with the lightest touch. He shivered but the stuttering breath he released told her that he enjoyed it. After covering every inch of him that she could reach, she switched to a light scraping of her nails, catching his nipples as they hardened beneath her hands.

“Jesus, you’re killing me, Chelsea.”

It was nothing compared to what he’d given her and somehow, she wanted him to remember her, to remember their encounter. She got the distinct impression this would only be a one-time thing, but pushed that unhappy thought aside. This was all about the here and now, and this man in front of her had given Chelsea something she’d never experienced before – at least, not with anyone else.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “It’s just…I’ve never seen anyone like you before.”

“Someone like me? Hmm, meaning what, South African? Of mixed race?” That brow quirked again as he grinned.

Chelsea giggled, taking in his deeply tanned flesh. She never would have guessed he was mixed, but she didn’t care. Of their own volition, her hands moved along his firm abdomen, exploring each muscular ridge, right down to the thin line of dark curls that dipped below the waistband of his jeans. She paused, running one finger along the edge of his denims. “No, I mean, so perfect.”

“I’m far from perfect, my darling, but I bloody well need you.” His chest heaved with each breath he took. “What do you think, sweet Chelsea?”

She thought she might die if he didn’t take those jeans off and finish what he started but her voice deserted her. That, and she wasn’t nearly brave enough to use such language. His eyes, nearly black now and churning with desire, met hers. Chelsea swallowed hard, her entire body on fire from head to toe as he drank her in, sitting stark naked before him. All she could manage was one word.

“Yes.”

As if he’d simply been waiting for her permission, the stranger stripped off the last of his clothing and captured her beneath him, lying her down on the towel with his t-shirt under her head as a pillow. Chelsea almost wept at his consideration for her comfort when his need was hot, hard, and throbbing hard and hot against her thigh.

One hand swept along her opening, checking to see that she was still ready for him. Hell, she was saturated, dripping down to the towel below her. He met her gaze, holding it, and entered her oh so slowly.

Inch by seemingly vast inch, he filled her, stretched her until fully seated, deep within her. They were connected on so many levels, two bodies sharing one moment in time, a chance encounter, their minds one with the universe above.

“Oh. My. Sweet. Lord. Chelsea…” He claimed her mouth, arms sliding underneath her to hold her body as close to his as he possibly could. “You feel so…I-I’ve never…” His breathless words fanned over her chin, along the edge of her jaw, and down to her throat. “Christ, you’re so tight, my darling. So hot, so wet.”

The more he spoke, the higher she soared and he had yet to move. Chelsea knew exactly what he meant though. Her core burned, stretching to take all of him and he felt impossibly thick and long. She felt him throbbing inside her, as if attempting to gain some control.

“So good,” he murmured, beginning a slow drag, gently pulling out a little at a time until just the wide, plum shaped tip of him remained.

Chelsea gripped the taut muscles of his back, nails pushed into his flesh and her body silently begged him to continue, to move, to do something. Anything. As long as this excruciatingly erotic heat continued to build, to send her over the edge, she didn’t care what he did.

“So
mine
.” He spoke the word with a harsh growl, thrusting himself deep and hard, hips clashing, bodies melding.

“Oh, God!” She must have been too loud because he slanted his mouth over hers again, swallowing her cries.

Like her veins were filled with gasoline and he’d thrown a match on her, Chelsea’s entire being was engulfed in a bright, white heat. She could have been floating in the middle of a brand new galaxy, the roiling flames of a blazing hot, freshly created sun, flaring cosmic energy outwards to aid in the foundation of life itself.

All at once, nothing and everything made sense. With each forceful thrust, they unlocked the secrets of the universe together, sharing in this divine moment. Chelsea exploded beneath him, the very center of her brain igniting a set of incendiary flashes that temporarily blinded her. The final remnants of her release drew him with her and she felt every beautiful inch of him pulsating, spilling thick jets of his seed deep inside her.

Their bodies, covered in a sheen of sweat from exertion, were sated but neither had the energy to move. He held her close as they both struggled to pull enough oxygen into their lungs. Though if she were to be honest with herself, Chelsea never wanted him to let go.

“Bloody hell,” he finally sighed, rolling over onto his side and taking her with him.

She knew exactly what he meant.

“I’ve never experienced anything so… Jesus, you’re amazing,” he murmured, nuzzling at her neck.

Breathless, boneless, and powerless to speak or even nod, Chelsea simply continued to draw air into her lungs. The most basic and primal activities were all she was able to achieve at the moment.

“Stay with me tonight.”

“Wh-what?” Chelsea gasped.

The man bestowed an almost pleading look in her direction. “Stay with me…please. In my room. All night.” When she didn’t immediately respond, he added, “I need you, Chelsea. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get enough of you.”