The nerves that had been successfully wiped out by his kiss returned as Sam opened the front door to her flat. She was being rash, sure, but women did this all the time. She just had to trust her instinct.
Her stomach fluttered as the nerves bedded in. There’d been a time when she wouldn’t have hesitated. A time when she’d known for sure she could judge a man’s character.
‘You okay?’
She turned to find her guest filling the doorway, his expression showing a hint of concern. Downstairs they’d been about to rip each other’s clothes off. Now she was considering putting on the brakes, even though she’d already made the decision to let him in.
She sighed, hanging her jacket on the peg in the hallway. She didn’t want it to be like this, all cautious and fearful. She wanted passion. A wild night when she could forget everything. And if the kiss downstairs was anything to go by, the pair of them had so much sexual chemistry, passion was as good as guaranteed. Providing she could get past these jitters.
He shifted on his feet. ‘Look, maybe this was a bad idea.’
Oh no. She wasn’t letting go of her plan that easily. She didn’t do wussing out. Straightening her shoulders, she tugged his hand, pulling him inside. Then shut the door behind him with a deliberate shove.
The action caused him to raise an eyebrow. ‘Or maybe it’s not.’
‘It’s not.’ She focused not on what she didn’t know about him, but what she did. He’d made sure she wasn’t drunk. He’d offered to show her his ID. Even now, he was giving her an out. They weren’t the actions of a man she needed to be afraid of. ‘Just tell me what we do now.’ As the words played back to her, she started to laugh. ‘I mean, I know we need to get naked at some point, but do you want a drink first?’
His mouth quirked. ‘I thought we’d done that at the pub.’
‘Yes, we have, sorry. I told you, I don’t usually do this sort of thing. I’m not sure of the rules.’
‘Don’t apologise.’ He cupped her face in a surprisingly gentle gesture. ‘This is just you and me, Champagne Lady. There are no rules.’
She watched as his mouth lowered towards hers; sensuous lips, surrounded by very male stubble. Her heart kicked up a gear. What was it about him that had made her act so out of character tonight? Or was it the circumstances, more than the man? Would she have invited any half-decent-looking guy back with her tonight? Those lips touched hers and she moaned as a dozen fireworks exploded, shooting heat through her blood.
No. It was this man she wanted tonight. Before he reduced her to a puddle of hormones again, she pushed on his chest, and wow, that was one hell of a wall of muscle. ‘We should head for the bedroom.’
‘If you like.’ His expression said he didn’t care where it happened, as long as it did.
And now the fluttering in her stomach was excitement, not nerves.
She started to lead the way when she came to an abrupt halt. ‘Can you carry me?’ At his puzzled look, she laughed, a teeny bit self-conscious. ‘“The hot stranger carried her to the bedroom.”’ She bit into her lip, aware she was making a fool of herself yet also uncaring, because she wasn’t going to see him again. The beauty of sex with a stranger. ‘Sounds better than “They walked to the bedroom”.’
He let out a low laugh and it looked good on him. Softened the edges of his rather blunt masculinity. ‘Are you writing a dirty book?’
‘Only in my head.’
Suddenly her feet were lifted off the floor, but rather than being swept into his arms, as she’d envisioned, she was thrown over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. The absurdity of it got to her and she started to giggle, thumping on his back as he walked down the hallway, opening the door to the bathroom and the storage cupboard before he found one with a bed in it. ‘This one yours?’
‘Yes!’ she squeaked as he threw her – okay, it wasn’t hard, but still, he threw her – onto the bed. Blowing her hair out of her eyes, she stared up at him. ‘Not quite what I’d imagined.’
‘No? Your book doesn’t feature hunky firemen?’
It was because he said it with a straight face, she realised. Most men grinned when they used humour, but with this guy, it took a moment to realise he was joking.
But then he was climbing onto the bed, leaning over her, staring into her eyes, and all humour fled. His amusement might be hard to read but his arousal, his need, burned so bright she felt the searing intensity of it all the way to her toes. ‘This is the part where we get naked.’
‘Right.’ She swallowed, her stomach performing a series of frantic somersaults. ‘You first.’
‘Oh no. Ladies first.’ Lying alongside her, resting his weight on his left arm, he used his right to slowly undo the remaining buttons on her blouse. ‘Nice.’
Not the most eloquent compliment she’d ever had, but it was the look of wonder on his face that made it seem better than any flowery phrase he could have given her.
Wordlessly he slipped his hand behind her and flicked open the snap of her bra, tugging it off. ‘Very nice.’
She smiled, stopping him as he began to undo her skirt. ‘My turn.’ Her hands trembled slightly as she undid the buttons of his shirt.
‘Nervous?’ She shook her head. ‘Good.’
Excitement licked at her insides as she revealed the muscled expanse of his chest; the dusting of dark hair that covered his pecs, trailing erotically down past his navel and into the waistband of his jeans. Thrilled, she ran her hands across the ridges and planes of his stomach, feeling a throb of exquisite arousal as he let out a guttural groan.
‘You’re nicely packaged,’ she whispered.
He let out a strangled-sounding laugh. ‘Thanks.’
‘Go on, do that again.’
‘What?’
‘Laugh. You’re really sexy when you laugh.’
He hissed in a breath as her fingers reached for the button of his jeans. ‘I’m sexy and nicely packaged,’ he repeated hoarsely. ‘You must be drunker than I thought.’ With that his hand clamped over hers. ‘My turn again.’
Ryan didn’t know how much longer he could keep it together. For a man who couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex – and yeah, how humiliating was that? – having this sexy redhead in bed with him, her stupendous breasts now revealed, was almost too much. If she’d opened his fly, it could have been game over.
Summoning all his wavering control, he focused back on her. Off came the little black skirt, the natty white underwear and the sexy stockings that seemed to be able to hold themselves up all on their own. She had curves, he thought with satisfaction, and a pair of legs that were every bit as good as he’d imagined. He opened his mouth to say ‘nice’ again, then clamped it shut. He’d like to bet that word didn’t feature in any erotic book she had going on in her head.
Instead of talking he bent to kiss her calf, trailing his lips up to her hips, across the gentle curve of her stomach and then to those magnificent breasts.
When he’d had the satisfaction of turning her into a writhing, moaning, sexy-as-hell mess, he hastily shrugged off the rest of his clothes and settled over her. They both groaned at the contact of naked skin on naked skin, but as he reached to touch her breast again, he froze. ‘Hang on a minute.’
Condom. Damn and blast, did he have one in his wallet still? Leaping off the bed, he lunged for his jeans and started frantically searching through his wallet.
‘Everything okay?’ She was propped up on her elbows, looking over at him like a flame-haired temptress.
‘Yeah. Just, you know, protection.’ Smooth, Black. Really frigging smooth.
‘Ah. I guess that’s sexual fling 101.’
He knew it was meant as a joke, yet it made him feel stupid. How come he’d not thought of this until now? Just as his heart, and his libido, was in danger of sinking, he found a foil packet hidden behind the rarely used credit card. He almost blurted, ‘Eureka’ but stopped himself.
‘Sorry.’ He sorted himself out before easing back onto the bed, worried he might have totally ruined the moment.
‘Don’t be. At least you remembered.’ She grinned up at him. ‘Are we good to mate like bunnies now?’
There was a moment, a heartbeat, as he stared into her dancing eyes, that he felt a connection. Something beyond the sexual attraction. She was amused, not annoyed. Kind, not snippy. It made him regret there would only be tonight.
Then he shook the thought away. The last thing he needed was another complication in his life. Besides, she’d made it quite clear he wasn’t her type.
Still, he took a moment to brush the hair from her face. To gaze steadily into her eyes and give her a gentle, teasing kiss before thrusting into her.
Chest heaving, Ryan flopped back onto the bed. Christ, that wasn’t just sex. It was an out-of-body experience.
‘Holy shit.’
With the few remaining vestiges of strength he had left, he turned towards her. ‘Yeah. Ditto.’
‘We didn’t do too badly, for a pair of inexperienced one-night standers.’
He nodded, shifting his gaze up to the ceiling. She’s too chatty, he reminded himself, though he was kind of getting used to chatty.
The boundaries were very clear, though. Reluctantly he swung his legs off the bed. ‘Guess I should get going.’
‘You don’t have to.’
He stilled, looking over his shoulder at her. ‘Thought it was a one-time thing.’
Her hand clutched the sheet, pulling it up to hide her breasts. Her red hair was a messy riot, her cheeks flushed. She looked both sex goddess and innocent. ‘One night, I think we said.’ Her mouth curved into a sexy smile, notching up the siren.
With a shrug, as if he was cool either way, as if his body wasn’t already firing bolts of arousal back through his system, and his mind not already full of all the things he still wanted to do with her, Ryan shifted back into the bed. ‘Sure.’ He coughed to clear the hoarseness from his throat. ‘I can go with that.’
As dawn filtered through the shutters, he picked up the clothes he’d discarded round her bedroom and threw them on. A glance over to the bed confirmed she was still asleep. Ignoring the tug of disappointment, he picked up his jacket and crept out of the room. Better this way.
Last night he’d noticed nothing but her. This morning, as he walked back down the hallway, he checked out the place. Smart, upmarket. Much like she was. He’d like to bet rats didn’t party in her swanky kitchen or hang out on her vivid red velvet sofa, peeing on all the multicoloured cushions. Clearly, he hadn’t been wrong about the rainbow thing she had going on.
Whoever the hell she was, she had a lot more money than he did. It made him glad he’d escaped before she woke up. He’d like to bet she’d have a tonne of regrets – along with a humdinger of a headache – when she finally surfaced.