A few days later, Lance was back in Arianna’s loft checking in on her and Tony, her retired police officer hired guard. Tony liked to hang out in the main room of her gallery reading NRA magazines. Lance had been calling and dropping by periodically, which she thought was so sweet.
However, she knew this was likely a temporary relationship, despite all his talk about dating and seeing where the relationship went. For one, she sucked at relationships. Without a model or roadmap to use, she managed to scare off every male suitor she’d ever had. Sure, ninety-nine percent of the time it was intentional, but she harbored no expectations that dating Lance would be more successful. Soon, Lance would go back to work, Ari would have her big show, and her father’s angry victim would or would not rear his ugly head again, and Lance wouldn’t feel the need to play hero.
An unworthy, lame part of her psyche believed that was the only reason Lance was with her. She knew she wasn’t his usual type, and Mr. Clean-cut certainly wasn’t her usual style. If she wasn’t a damsel in distress, would Lance keep talking about dating and relationships? She didn’t think so, but she was enjoying it while it lasted, which she assumed would end the day her attacker was caught.
The police seemed to have more leads on her missing father than they did on her would-be attacker. Lance warned Tony to be crazy vigilant and never allow her out of his sight for more than a minute. Now he kept muttering about her need for eating in restaurants. If it were up to him, she’d be on lockdown in the apartment eating peanut butter and jelly.
“Worse than the president wanting to walk the parade route at the inauguration. Sheesh,” he muttered to himself whenever she suggested an outing.
She ignored his grumblings with a smile, since she took it to mean he cared a little. As for her, she was starting to care way too much. When this—whatever it was—between them ended, there was going to be a giant, gaping hole in her heart, but she kept suppressing that thought and focused on the now.
“Want to go to a movie tomorrow night?” She turned from her computer, where she’d been reading a positive review of the latest rom-com starring Clive Owen, who pretty much topped her must-see list.
Lance frowned at her from where he was sprawled on her sofa. “Like I want to take you to a large, dark room full of strangers? Use your head, woman.” He softened his rebuke with a grin. “But I can’t anyway. I have to go out tomorrow night.”
“Oh, hot date?” Ari asked. She left her desk and kneeled on the couch next to him.
He smacked her bottom gently. “Yeah, like I have the energy for that. You wear me out, sweetheart.”
She didn’t want to be the nagging girlfriend, but Lance looked uncomfortable about his evening plans; she couldn’t help but ask. “Where are you going?”
“Um…” He scooped up the remote and flipped the channel a few times before answering. “My dad’s in town meeting some friends. He requested my presence at dinner.”
She snuggled into his side, inhaling the earthy alluring scent of his skin. “Requested your presence? What is he, the king?”
He snorted. “You could say that.”
It was clear she’d have to dig. Lance was closed up tighter than an ice cream truck in a snowstorm. “I thought you weren’t close with your parents.” He still hadn’t given her any details about his wealthy family despite her hints and questions.
“They call or visit once or twice a year to nag and lecture me on my duties,” he said.
She sat up. How was that possible? “Duties? But you’re, like, the perfect son.” She ticked off his qualities on her fingers. “You’re smart, responsible, have an important job, trustworthy, sexy…”
Lance stroked a large hand over her scalp. “I don’t think my parents care about that last one.” He laughed. “At least, I hope not.”
“I care,” she said, hearing a sultry note slide into her voice. She crawled over to straddle him, thankful she wore another of her adorable spring dresses today. Lance was happy about it too, she could tell as his erection rose under his pants.
“Do you care?” he asked.
There was more to his question than sex, and Ari was starting to recognize that she cared about him a whole lot more than any man she’d ever slept with before. In fact, other than Valerie, she couldn’t think of a single person she’d let get this close. She leaned in to press a warm kiss to his lips. “I care,” she said. “I really care.”
“You sound shocked.” His hands roamed under her skirt and rubbed tantalizing patterns across her hips and rear.
“Don’t tease. This is a big deal for me. I’ve never copped to caring before.”
“Well, then, thank you. For the record, I care too. Even if you are a spoiled brat.” He managed to undo the zipper of her dress and slide it down, revealing today’s lacy confection. Ivory lace with scattered navy satin bows harnessed her breasts to defy gravity. She jutted her chest out, teasing him with nipples barely hidden.
“Jesus,” he muttered, “you’re fucking sexy. I don’t know whether to go for the porn fantasy and leave that excuse of a bra on, or get you totally naked.”
“Viewer’s choice.” She smiled, totally aroused by his heated stare. It was always nice to be desired, but to have the object of your affection be equally into you was sheer perfection.
Lance lifted the hem of her dress. “I’m almost scared to look. Are you commando again?”
Ari pushed back off his lap and stood in front of him with one bare foot on the couch between his thighs. If she stretched her big toe she could graze his cock. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she said, and held her dress lowered over her midriff, showing her breasts and nothing more. She wasn’t quite bare under the dress—it was, after all, a windy day. But the matching cream lacy thong didn’t cover much.
“Show me,” he said.
She wiggled her eyebrows and blew him a kiss. Her best stripper moves consisted of a little belly dancing and part macarena, minus the arm movements. After a few hip swivels, she dropped the dress and posed in her lingerie, letting him look his fill. Her nipples peaked and she’d have to lose the thong soon before it became too wet with her desire.
“Come here.” He crooked his finger.
If any man before Lance had dared crook his finger at her, she’d have sent him out the door, but with him, his total masculine cockiness sent waves of heat straight to her core. He couldn’t win her, not that easily. She raised her foot to the couch again, then lowered her hand to finger herself. Her eyes closed from the pleasure of performing for him; she was wet.
“You little tease,” he said, nearly growling. “I said get over here, or two can play at that game.”
“Shh,” she said, laughing. “We’ll frighten Tony.”
“I sent Tony to dinner. It’s just you and me, baby.” He unsnapped his pants and released his cock. Wowza, she was influencing the lawman more than she’d realized. She wasn’t the only one who went commando on occasion. Seeing her stare, he let out the sexiest laugh ever and stroked himself from base to tip.
Her fingers paused and she licked her lips, wanting to kiss and taste the pearl of moisture beading up at the top of Lance’s penis.
“Don’t stop. Keep going,” Lance said.
“But I want that.” She whined a little and reached for him, but he shifted out of her reach. The bastard. How dare he deny her? She dropped to her knees; no man could resist the possibility of a blow job.
Lance, apparently, was made of sterner stuff than most men. He continued stroking his cock and used his knees to prevent her from getting closer. Damn him and his martial arts know-how. “I said, keep touching yourself.”
He wanted to play? Fine. She was game, but now he was going to be the one begging and pleading. With a saucy smile for him, she strolled over to her nightstand and selected a vibrator from her collection and lay back on the bed, making sure to remain in his line of vision. Ooh, now who was distracted? Lance’s hand froze mid-stroke.
“You’re evil,” he choked out, but he couldn’t seem to take his gaze away from the picture she made lying on the bed, legs spread.
The buzzing of the vibrator sounded like a busy little bee flitting around the room. Lance yanked off all his clothes and came to kneel on the bed next to her. “I’ve never seen that before.”
She looked at him, confused. “A vibrator?”
He smiled slightly. “Yes. No. Well, a woman actually using one.”
“You’ve lived a sheltered life, then.” She decided to put on the best show ever for him, one he would never forget even when he was back in his normal life dating boring, colorless, K Street lawyer types, women who didn’t share their sex toy collection with him.
He couldn’t pull his gaze away, not even if the president walked through the doorway begging him to return to work. He’d never seen anything sexier than Arianna Rose pleasuring herself as if she didn’t have a care in the world other than her next orgasm. Every inch of her pink, wet pussy was on view for his pleasure.
For the first time in a long time, he was unsure of his next move. Did he stand there like a voyeur with wide eyes and drool dripping from his mouth? Maybe he should attend to his own needs; he’d never been harder in his life and his dick might explode if it didn’t get some much-needed attention.
He knelt on the bed next to Ari and pushed her hand out of the way and grasped the vibrator. It was a two-pronged orange device and looked more like a piece of the modern art she had downstairs than any sort of fake phallus from a porn flick. He slid one end into her slippery passage and let the other piece touch her clitoris. “Hold the headboard,” he ordered. “Don’t move until I give you permission.”
“You’re a fast learner,” she said and arched her hips slightly toward him, with her hands above her head. “Slide it in and out, slowly.”
Lance followed her instructions, but he was torn between wanting to take her to completion this way and tossing the sex toy aside and filling her with his aching shaft. Ari solved his dilemma when she reached her hand to circle his cock. He shifted over to grant her better access.
He sped up his gentle thrusting, moving his hips and hands in a similar quick rhythm. Ari responded by tightening her hand on his shaft. He gritted his teeth against the sheer pleasure and need to come. His balls tightened, creating a throbbing pleasure pain at the base of his cock.
Now he was having trouble sliding the dildo in easily. Her inner muscles squeezed around it in little flutters, sucking it in then pushing it back out. With a curse, Lance tossed it on the bed and balanced himself over Arianna.
Her eyes flew open at the loss, then widened when he lowered himself down, entering her in one smooth thrust.
“Oh, God.” She wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his shoulders. “I didn’t think there was anything better than Robert.”
“Robert?” He tried to concentrate on her words, but it was hard with her wet, snug sheath wrapped like a second skin around him. They’d been making love furiously since they’d met, but this was the hottest, best time yet.
“BOB, battery operated boyfriend. The cost of that particular one made him much too nice to be simply Bob, so I formally christened him Robert or Roberto, depending on my mood.” She smiled and did a circling with her hips that had his eyes rolling back from the pleasure.
When she looked like she was going to keep chattering about a machine named Robert, Lance lowered his mouth for a ravenous kiss, leaving no room for words, and changing their fun evening tryst into something much more.
They both kept their eyes open and stared at each other in silence. The only noise was the slick slide of him thrusting into her and the subtle mattress movement. His arms tightened under her shoulder blades, locking them together. They ceased to be Ari and Lance and fused into one entity steaming forward on a pleasurable freefall into uncharted territory.
He’d never made love to a woman like this, with his whole being, his heart, his mind, and his body. It terrified and exhilarated him at the same time. He clung to her and tried to make it last.
Her little cries of pleasure were a siren’s song to his jaded ears. He could listen forever. The wet heat of her squeezed his shaft, nearly making him spill his seed with every thrust, but he hung on to his sanity by a filament. He wanted Ari as desperate to prolong the lovemaking as he was.
Her hips shifted under him and her inner muscles did something that caused his eyes to lose their ability to focus, and all too soon, the familiar rush of pleasure raced upon them both. Ari squeezed around him, milking his response up his base and into her. As his seed left his body, he realized, too late, why this time felt different, so good.
He’d forgotten the damn condom.