Reame felt the feminine hand land on his thigh and looked down at the painted pink fingernails and the expensive rings decorating that hand. It was inching higher up his leg and he waited for his junk to react, his interest to form.
Nope. Nothing.
Crap.
Reame turned his head to look at his date and wondered what the hell was wrong with him. He’d met Gretchen a few weeks ago on a dating app and had invited her out for a drink. Over a couple of beers, he’d found the forensic psychologist fascinating. Intelligence and sexy was a killer combination. Within an hour, they’d both known that if she hadn’t been flying out that night, they would’ve hooked up in her hotel room for a night long on pleasure and short on regrets. She was based in Seattle but she crisscrossed the country and would like to, she’d told him, have dinner with him the next time she was in town.
And by dinner she meant food followed by hot, no-strings sex.
Now here they were, in a taxi, headed toward her hotel. The dinner had been good, her company interesting, but his body wasn’t cooperating. Gretchen was tall, buxom and confident and, he was sure, knew her way around a man’s body. She was what he’d been wanting, looking for, but the thought of kissing her mouth, palming her breast made him feel a little nauseous.
Maybe he was coming down with something.
Gretchen lifted her hand off his thigh and half turned in her seat, crossing her spectacular legs. “Are you okay?”
Reame lifted one eyebrow at her very female question. “I’m fine, why?”
“Well, we had a lovely meal and we enjoyed the conversation.” She tipped her head to the side, her eyes roaming over his features. “At least, I enjoyed myself.”
“Dinner was fine, Gretchen.”
“Fine. Just what every girl wants to hear,” Gretchen replied, her tone cooling. She tapped her clutch bag against her knee in obvious frustration. “I thought we were on the same page, Reame.”
So had he. Reame sighed, thought about fudging his answer and decided not to, that Gretchen’s confidence deserved the truth. He pushed his hair away from his eyes and tried to smile. “I did enjoy dinner, Gretchen. You have a fascinating job and an interesting life. You’re a fascinating woman.”
“A month ago, if I hadn’t had a flight to catch, we would’ve spent the night together.”
“Yeah, we would’ve,” Reame admitted.
“But that’s not going to happen tonight, is it?”
Again, it would be so much easier to fudge. But she deserved better. “It could,” he admitted. He shrugged and her thin eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “I’m a guy—touch me in a couple of places and it could happen.”
“But it wouldn’t be about me.”
If they had sex, he’d make it good for her—of course he would. He’d get off and she would get off and afterward there wouldn’t be anything to say because she’d know that he’d been thinking of someone else while kissing and touching her. Women were spooky clever that way.
“So, you’re telling me that I’m not your first choice tonight.”
Reame picked up her hand and kissed her fingers. “I’m telling you that I think that you deserve to have someone fully there in the moment with you, enjoying you. I’m not that guy, not tonight.”
Reame could see the offer of them trying this again when she returned to the city hovering on her lips and he hoped, prayed that she didn’t utter the words. He didn’t want to tell her that he wouldn’t take her call, that their moment had passed. The words were about to tumble out when Gretchen’s lips firmed and she nodded once, then again.
Fortuitously, her nodding coincided with the taxi pulling to a stop outside the entrance to her hotel. “I’ll walk you to the door,” Reame said.
He sighed when Gretchen opened her own door, ignoring the hand he held out. She seemed to realize that asking him not to walk her to the entrance was futile so he matched her long strides to where the doorman stood, the door open for them. Gretchen turned, placed her hand on his arm and her cheek against his.
“Thanks for dinner, Reame. I’m sorry this didn’t work out.”
“Me too.” He genuinely was. Taking Gretchen to bed would’ve been a hundred times simpler than dealing with the blonde bundle of craziness he’d left in his apartment.
The one he actually wanted, consistently craved.
* * *
Sitting in Reame’s den, Lachlyn dipped her hand into a bag of chocolate-covered peanuts and as she lifted the handful of sweets to her mouth, she heard the slam of Reame’s front door, heavy footsteps crossing the floor of his apartment. Lachlyn muted the television and looked at her watch; Reame was back early from his date.
Lachlyn had thought that she’d spend a sleepless night listening for him to return, if he returned at all. So she was very surprised to hear that he was back and shortly after ten. Hearing his footsteps approaching the den, Lachlyn rolled the packet closed and shoved it down the side of the cushion. She stared at the TV, pretending total fascination. Reame’s ego was healthy enough—he did not need to know that she’d spent the past three hours in agony, imagining him eating and drinking and flirting.
Lachlyn dragged her eyes off the TV as he sat down on the couch next to her, propping his flat-soled boots up onto the designer coffee table. He looked amazing in dark jeans, an expensive white shirt and soft green jacket.
“Hi. Good night?” Lachlyn asked, proud of her vague, not-terribly-interested tone.
“Yeah.”
Lachlyn felt Reame’s eyes on her face and she turned, sucked up a smile and returned her attention to the television. Questions she refused to utter bounced around her brain. Why are you home so early? Did you skip dinner and go straight for dessert? Did you kiss her, flirt with her? God, I’m sure I can smell her perfume...
“Are you actually watching this?” Reame asked.
“Yeah, it’s fascinating,” Lachlyn replied.
“Really? Beginner’s taxidermy? Are you kidding me?”
Ew! Seriously? Lachlyn focused on the screen where a red-faced, sweating man scraped at an animal skin with a flat blade. Gross. Reame snatched the remote control from her hand, flipped over to a sports channel and held out his hand, bending his fingers into a “give it up” gesture.
“What?” Lachlyn asked, trying for innocence. If she handed over her bag of chocolates, he’d polish them off in five seconds.
“The candy you are hiding.”
Lachlyn widened her eyes and opened her palms. “What candy? I haven’t been eating candy.”
Reame’s thumb swiped her bottom lip and he lifted his thumb to his mouth and sucked. Lachlyn’s heart stopped, fell out of her rib cage and flopped onto the floor. Unable to keep her eyes off his, all that gorgeous green, she was caught unaware when Reame’s hand shot past her hip to pull the packet from its hiding place. Lachlyn lunged for it but Reame held it up and away from her, his long arms keeping it out of her reach.
“Give it back! That’s mine.” Lachlyn stood on her knees and reached for the bag, placing her hand on his shoulder to keep her balance as she leaned across his torso to retrieve her chocolate treat.
“C’mon, be nice and share them with me.”
“That’s my dinner because I didn’t eat at one of the city’s best restaurants tonight.” Lachlyn lunged, toppled and Reame’s arm banded around her waist, pulling her close. It felt natural to swing her knee across his lap to straddle him.
Natural but dangerous.
“You had chocolate for dinner?” Reame asked, lowering his arm.
“You don’t have much in the fridge and I still don’t know what the security procedure is for deliveries. Plus I didn’t want to chance it because I heard your high-value client come in.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Reame said, his hand settling on her hip. He seemed quite happy for her to sit on his lap, quite at ease with the fact that her core was resting on his rock-hard erection. She licked her lips. “What did you have for supper?”
Reame’s eyes darted to her mouth and back up to her eyes. “Steak, veggies, salad.”
She had to ask because they couldn’t take this further if he’d so much as kissed his date. “And for dessert?” she whispered.
“Are you asking me if I had sex with my date?”
“I’m asking if anything happened earlier tonight because if it did I’m walking out and going to bed...alone.”
Reame’s hands tightened on her hips and the packet scratched her skin. “Nothing happened.”
“Why not?” Lachlyn whispered.
“Because she wasn’t who I wanted.” Reame tossed the packet of peanuts onto the couch and reached up to clasp her face. “I thought about it, I admit that. I wanted to burn this crazy I have for you out of my system and I intended to sleep with her. But I couldn’t pull the trigger.”
Lachlyn lowered her forehead to rest it on his. “I’m glad. I know there are a hundred reasons why we shouldn’t but I need to burn the crazy away, too. Maybe when we have we can go back to normal. I can spend some time thinking of whether I want to be a Ballantyne or not—”
“You are a Ballantyne,” Reame murmured.
Lachlyn ignored his interruption. “—and you can go back to sleeping with wild women.”
That was the plan but she doubted that it would work out that way. But she didn’t care. She wanted this, she wanted Reame, she wanted one night exploring this fire-hot passion that only he’d ever roused in her. She wanted to know what bliss felt like, whether those Big O’s she’d read about were as magical as everybody said they could be if you found a man who knew what he was doing.
Reame, she was convinced, knew what he was doing.
Reame’s thumbs caressed her cheekbones, his eyebrows pulled into a slight frown. “You sure about this, Lach?”
Lachlyn shook her head. “No. But I want this. I want you.”
Three words—I want you—and Lachlyn saw the capitulation in his eyes. Reame moved one hand to the back of her skull and pulled her head down as he reached up to take her mouth in a kiss that was as powerful as it was sensational. Heat, red-hot and fizzing, skittered along her skin, igniting every nerve ending. She wanted to wait, to take this slow, but she couldn’t. The sensations he pulled from her were too insistent, too demanding to be ignored. Wrenching her mouth off his, Lachlyn grabbed the hem of her T-shirt with both hands, pulling the cotton up and over her head. She dropped her shirt to the floor and watched Reame’s eyes darken as they landed on her chest, her breasts covered by a plain white cotton bra. She wished she’d worn her prettier lingerie, something far sexier, but judging from Reame’s hot gaze, he didn’t seem to mind or notice. His big hand easily covered her, his thumb swiping her beaded nub, and Lachlyn groaned, instinctively grinding down on his hard length.
Needing to get her hands on his skin, her fumbling fingers undid the buttons on his shirt and she hastily pushed away the fabric and his jacket, finally connecting with warm, male skin. So different from her own smooth skin, Lachlyn thought, her hand drifting through the light hair on his chest, over flat nipples, down that ridged stomach. She heard Reame’s gasp and finally understood the power of being a woman, how good it felt to make a strong, powerful, alpha male groan. And want. And need.
She wanted more, she needed more...now. This was taking far too long and she was scared she’d lose her courage. Lachlyn scooted off his lap, pushed her yoga pants down her legs and stepped out of them, using her toes to push her thick socks off her feet. Damn, but her white cotton briefs and bra would have to go, too. Lachlyn reached behind her back and was about to unsnap her bra when Reame leaned forward, gripped her hips and placed his hot mouth on her stomach, his tongue writing words on her skin. “Sweetheart, slow down.”
He didn’t understand; she was vibrating with need, terrified that if she stopped, hesitated, that the rush would fade away, that she’d lose the feeling.
Lachlyn wrapped her arms around Reame’s head, pushing her fingers through his silky hair as his fingers danced around her back. With ease, he unhooked her bra and with one finger pulled the garment from her body. Instead of touching her, Reame blew on her nipple, nuzzled the bud with his nose. “You’re prettier than I imagined, and I have a damn fine imagination.”
“Kiss me, Reame,” Lachlyn murmured.
And finally, he did. Reame’s tongue curled around her nipple as his other hand cupped her bottom, his fingers running from her ass cheeks down her thighs and inside. Lachlyn opened her legs and felt one finger slide under the band of her panties, perilously close to where she craved his touch.
Lachlyn begged him to touch her, all pretense at pride out of the window. Reame pushed her panties down her thighs and then his fingers were in her cleft, seeking out her point of pleasure. Masculine fingers, knowing fingers, slid inside her as his thumb continued to caress her and Lachlyn felt her orgasm building, felt herself reaching for the impossible. She sucked in her breath and her chest heaved and because she had no words, she guided his mouth back to her nipple and urged him to suck. Pinpoints of pleasure danced behind her eyes, her womb throbbed and she knew she was close, as close as she’d ever been.
But she didn’t want her first orgasm to be had alone—this was something she wanted Reame to feel, as well. She wanted him to share in her pleasure, for her to be a part of his.
“Condom?” Lachlyn rasped.
Reame nodded. “Inside pocket of my jacket.”
Lachlyn slid her hand under his jacket—he was wearing far too many clothes—and dipped it into his pocket, finding and pulling free a strip of condoms. Ripping one off and apart, she pulled the latex from its wrapper and looked at it, her mind whirling. She shoved it at Reame. “My hands are trembling. You do it.”
Reame glanced down at his pants still covering his erection. He moved his fingers inside her and Lachlyn gasped. “I’m a bit busy here. If you want me, you’d better free me.”
Lachlyn licked her lips, attacked his belt buckle, opened the button on his jeans and pulled down the zipper. Sucking in her breath, she pushed her fingers under the band of his underwear to encounter him, smooth and oh-so-hard. Lachlyn felt dizzy. He was all male, so much more than she imagined.
And she had a good imagination.
Reame groaned and muttered a low curse. “Scoot.” Lachlyn moved away and Reame shot to his feet. He kicked off his boots, removed his socks and dropped his shirt and jacket to the floor. Lachlyn, throbbing, every inch of her skin flushed with heat, sucked in her breath at the sheer perfection of his body. Broad chest—marred only by a scar on the right side of his rib cage—that ridged stomach, strong, muscled legs. And yeah, his beautiful, beautiful—
Reame yanked the condom from her grip, rolled it down his shaft and reached for her, lifting her up in one arm to walk her around the couch. Turning her to face it, he placed her hands on the back of the couch, his foot nudging her legs apart. Banding his arm around her midsection, he pulled her butt up and caressed her with his free hand, from spine to butt cheeks and between her legs.
So, this wasn’t what she was expecting but it was thrilling and exciting.
“You are so damn beautiful,” Reame murmured, his mouth dropping to kiss the side of her neck. “I’m going to make you mine now, Lach.”
She couldn’t wait. Lachlyn felt his head at her entrance, felt the push, felt herself expanding and thought yes, this was what she wanted.
“Relax, baby. You’re so damn tight.”
Reame’s hand sneaked around her hips to play with her bead and Lachlyn liquefied. Instinctively, she pushed backward at the same time Reame surged and she felt a hit of pain before the world exploded behind her eyelids.
Reame stopped in his tracks. “What the hell—”
“Not now, dammit,” Lachlyn told him, reaching backward to grip his thighs.
“Lach, I—”
“Not now!” Lachlyn yelled, pushing backward, trying to recapture that intense, supernova feeling. Reame hesitated, cursed her and plunged inside her, hot and hard and melting her from the inside out. Wanting more, wanting everything, Lachlyn tried to touch herself but Reame beat her to it, his fingers finding her, rubbing her as he bucked inside of her. Lachlyn’s world exploded into tiny pinpricks of light, her stomach clenched and then she was falling, falling, rolling, touching the universe and everything in it.
From somewhere far away, she heard Reame’s shout, felt his body tense and her name being called.
She didn’t answer because she was still dancing on the stars.
A little while later, Lachlyn removed her fingernails from Reame’s arm and winced at the half moon marks on his skin. She tried to sooth them away, absurdly conscious of Reame’s hand between her legs, his shaft still buried deep inside her, the occasional shudder that ran through his body.
Reame touched his lips to her shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” Lachlyn told him and it was the truth. For her first time, it had been magical.
“I don’t understand,” Reame said, keeping his voice low. “You’re not a kid so I assumed...”
“Please don’t make this a bigger deal than it is, Reame,” Lachlyn said, keeping her voice low. “I’ve had fun with guys but I never dated anyone I liked enough to go this far.”
Lachlyn felt Reame tense, heard his sudden intake of breath. “Lach—”
She heard the warning in his voice, the please-don’t-read-anything-into-this tone. She patted his arm. “Relax, Reame, I know what this is and it’s just sex. I know I’m not the wild woman you wanted but I don’t plan to make any demands on you that you can’t meet. I don’t do personal connections, remember?”
Reame rested his cheek on her shoulder. “That was pretty wild, Lachlyn, for your first time.” Reame sounded rueful so Lachlyn pulled away and turned to look at him. She flashed him a cocky grin because he seemed to need the reassurance. “I know, right?”
Reame closed his eyes and shook his head, a small smile touching his lips. Then he sighed. “Your brother is going to kill me.”
“So, here’s an idea—let’s not tell him,” Lachlyn suggested.
“He’s going to take one look at me and know,” Reame said, sounding mournful. “Then he’s going to rip my head off.”
Lachlyn pushed her hips back and, amazingly, felt him hardening inside her. She thought that men needed some time to recover... “Well, before you die, let’s do this again.”
Reame’s laugh coated her skin in sunshine and she sighed her disappointment when he pulled away from, and out of, her. “Let’s clean up and then—” he dropped a kiss on her nose “—we’ll do this properly.”
“I prefer improperly,” Lachlyn said, missing his warmth and touch.
“You are definitely a wild woman in training,” Reame said, rueful. “And if your brother doesn’t kill me, I suspect you will.” He took her hand and led her to his room. “Shower then bed.”
Lachlyn stopped in her tracks, tugged her hand from his and ran around the couch to pick up the packet of candy. She waved it at Reame. “I’m still hungry.”
“We’ll order pizza later.” Reame snagged her by the waist and swept her into his arms, laughing when Lachlyn opened the bag of candy and popped one into her mouth. He watched her eat as he walked her into the bathroom. “Are you going to share?” he demanded.
He was trying to act blasé but Lachlyn could see his brain turning, knew that he was trying to work out all the angles. She meant what she’d said earlier; this wasn’t a big deal. Well, it was, in the sense that the sex had been utterly delightful, but not in a what-the-hell-have-I-done? way.
“I gave you my virginity, what more do you want?” Lachlyn teased him and was relieved when his mouth quirked up. “Great sex doesn’t earn you candy.”
“Brat,” Reame said as he lowered her to her feet.
Reame shoved his hand into the shower, flipped on the taps and covered her mouth with his. Lachlyn felt him lift her up and then he dropped her under a cold spray of water, snatching the bag out of her hands while she danced around trying to avoid the freezing deluge.
Reame tossed a handful of candy into his mouth before placing the bag on top of the bathroom cabinet, out of her reach, before turning away from her to deal with the condom. Even as she cursed him—using his height was so unfair!—she admired his broad, muscled back, his narrow hips, his truly fantastic butt.
“This water is freezing, Jepsen.”
Reame turned back to her, reached past her and flipped on the hot tap. Right, Lachlyn thought as hot water poured over her head, her back. She could’ve done that, too.
Being around Reame fried her brain and judging by the predatory look on his face as he stepped into the shower and pulled her into his arms, he was about to do it again.
She couldn’t wait.