Her fighter response sent a shot of adrenaline through him. He liked that she didn’t retreat. “That-a-girl.”
He bent and licked her, one swipe though her center. Her flavor exploded on his tongue, making him greedy for more. He plied her slick flesh with his mouth, licking, sucking and grazing her with his teeth. He felt her tremors increase through his hands and against his face, then her back bowed and she jerked over and over until her knees buckled and she sagged against the bed.
He nipped her thigh and looked up at her. Her lids slowly lifted. Her breath shuddered in and out again. He kissed a return path up her body, then she started easing down his the way he had hers. Her intent jolted him with a blast of heat that nearly fried his brain.
“Save that mission for another time. Right now, I can’t wait to be inside you.” He scooped her into his arms. Planting one knee on the bed then the other, he lowered her into the center.
“I want that, too.”
Reality took a bite out of the moment. Damn. It had been years since he’d needed to carry condoms in his wallet, but tonight he wished he hadn’t broken the habit. “I need protection. Don’t move.”
He hustled into the bathroom, grabbed a couple of condoms and returned to the bedroom. He pitched his booty onto the nightstand, save one packet. The sight of Paige with her creamy skin and golden hair reclining on her elbows on the chocolate-brown sheets made his mouth water and his erection twitch in appreciation.
He opened and donned the latex. With her sultry gaze on him, even the stroke of his own hand as he rolled on the condom bordered on too much stimulation, but then a quick flash of nervousness across her face made him pause. She still had doubts? How could she when he was about to explode all over her and the linens?
He captured her ankle and lifted it.
She stiffened. “What are you doing?”
“This.” He caught her big toe between his teeth, circled it with his tongue then sucked it into his mouth.
She gasped and fell back on the bed. “Ooh, that feels good.”
He nibbled his way to her instep. Her leg muscles knotted. Her fingers fisted in the sheets. “Wow. I mean…woooow. I’ve never had…I mean, kissing feet feels so…amazing.”
Her breathless voice egged him on. He savored his way past her ankle, up her calf and to the back of her knee where he teased the sensitive crease with his mouth and his fingertips until she wiggled impatiently, then he made his way up the inside of her thigh. She started shaking before he made it to her panty line. Fine tremors rattled her body and stuttered her breaths, but she arched up to meet his mouth when he reached her center. He shelved her bottom on his hands and went to work on driving her wild. It took less than a minute of stroking her swollen flesh to make her cli**x again.
He couldn’t wait any longer. She reached for him as he climbed his way up her body, but he couldn’t handle her hands on his hypersensitive erection right now. It would be too much. He caught her hands and carried them to his mouth to press wet kisses on her palms.
She opened her legs and her arms for him, then sandwiched his face between her hands and pulled him down to her mouth. He simultaneously slid into the slick glove of her body and plunged his tongue into her mouth. Hot, liquid pleasure enveloped him, lubricating each thrust. He struggled to hold back, but he couldn’t stay his hips.
He tried to drag air into his tight chest, and withdrew from Paige only to lunge in again and again. Pressure and heat built in his groin. Her hands mapped his torso, bumping over his n**ples and sending tiny electric shocks shooting through his limbs. He rocked back on his haunches, lifting her h*ps and freeing his thumb to circle her center. Sweat beaded on his torso with the effort to keep his hunger on lockdown.
He couldn’t look away from her face. The rush of color to her cheeks, the way she bit her knuckle to hold in her cries and the expansion of her pupils revealing her pleasure. Then her internal muscles clutched him tight. Her eyes slammed shut and orgasm rippled through her again, bowing her torso off the bed and making her contract around him. She stifled her cries against her fist.
Her cli**x triggered his. He fell forward, bracing himself to plunge deeper and faster. Tension gathered in his limbs, coalescing into a hot ball that raced through him and burst from him in resurgent, mind-numbing pulses of ecstasy. A groan he couldn’t contain thundered from him, shattering the quiet of the room.
Sapped of strength, his elbows buckled. He barely caught himself on his shaking arms before crushing Paige. His lungs blasted hot air against her temple. Her pants fanned his neck and her hands swept down his damp back.
Then reality returned like a dousing of de-icing fluid.
Despite the attraction between them, taking her to bed had never been part of his plan. Now that the heat of the moment had cooled, he realized he shouldn’t have brought her to his suite. But he’d believed he had more control over his libido, and with that damned Donnie lusting over her downstairs he’d been stuck between two bad choices: risking Donnie exposing the truth or risking temptation.
Trent rolled onto his back beside Paige. As amazing as the sex had been, he wished he had a rewind button to undo it. Was Paige even now comparing him to his brother? Comparing this year’s performance with the previous one? Could she tell the difference between him and Brent? The idea of his sexual skills being weighed against Brent’s made his skin crawl.
But, Trent’s pride pointed out, there was no way Paige could call this encounter disappointing.
He needed to clear his head and come up with a new strategy, because there was no way in hell sleeping with his brother’s former lover would lead to anything other than a disaster if his secret broke.
Despite the evidence he’d seen to the contrary, a part of him had wanted to believe Brent’s claim that Paige probably picked up a new man in the bar at every conference, when she’d said all she wanted was casual sex he’d let himself be persuaded. Big mistake.
He couldn’t even blame his lack of control on abstinence. He had sex on a regular basis whenever it fit into his schedule. But on those occasions his partners were female versions of him—takers who wanted a physical release without messy ties or expectations. They were as eager to leave after the orgasms as he was. No cuddling. No pillow talk. No false promises.
Despite the fact that Paige’s sensuality had totally melted his brain, he’d bet his personal jet that she wasn’t the temporary kind of woman. He could tell the difference between someone focused on self-gratification and one eager to please her partner and afraid she might fail. Her vulnerability was the key. Her tentative touches and hesitant kisses combined with her earnest expression proved her a giver not a taker.
Paige was the type of woman who looked for a long-term connection, not a temporary hookup—the kind of woman he usually avoided the way he would standing on high ground in a lightning storm.
Damn. Damn. Damn. With one stupid decision he’d derailed his damage control plan and very likely worsened the potential outcome. He had to find a way to make this situation work for him instead of against him.
But how could he turn a mistake of this magnitude to his advantage? There had to be a way. And he would find it.
Seven
P aige sank into Trent’s mattress with a sigh of contentment. A fine coating of sweat cooled her skin.What a difference a year made. Making love with Trent this time around had been as wonderful and exhilarating as the previous attempt had been awful and humiliating.
She didn’t know what to say to him. How could she possibly ask what had changed without reminding him of last year’s disastrous failure? That would certainly spoil the moment.
Tonight with little or no coaxing from her, he’d been hard as steel even before their clothing had come off. She’d bet her upcoming week’s vacation he hadn’t taken one of those magic blue pills advertised on TV because he hadn’t acted as if he intended them to become intimate tonight or any other night.
She hadn’t changed, so she couldn’t have been the reason for his…lack of enthusiasm last year. Right? Please let that be right. She turned her head. He lay on the pillow beside hers, staring at the ceiling, a frown furrowing his brow.
A sinking sensation settled in her stomach. Did he have regrets? How could he? That had been the most amazing sex of her life. Hadn’t it been as good for him? She bit her bottom lip as doubts dampened her afterglow. The cheesy “Was it good for you?” line ran through her mind, but she couldn’t reduce the sublime pleasure they’d shared to a cliché.
His head turned and their gazes met. The combination of reserve and regret in his eyes winded her. “You can shower first.”
“We could shower together,” she said, hoping she’d read him wrong.
“You go ahead. I’m going to take a look at the room service menu.”
His disinterested tone slapped her. She wanted to pull the sheets over her head. But that wouldn’t solve anything. The problem would be waiting for her when she came out from under the covers.
He rose and walked into the bathroom. Her gaze fastened on the flexing muscles of his firm buttocks, and arousal rekindled in her midsection. The toilet flushed then water splashed in the sink. He returned wearing one of the hotel robes, tightly belted, and carrying another. He draped the spare across the foot of the bed. “Take your time.”
He left the room, siphoning all the warmth and oxygen with him. She clutched the sheet to her chest and listened to him moving around in the sitting area. She heard the refrigerator open and the chink of ice cubes falling into a glass.
She’d driven him to drink?
Feeling more exposed and unsure than she had since last year, she clutched the robe to her chest and raced into the bathroom. Keeping a wary eye out for Trent, she tucked her hair into a hotel-provided shower cap, then showered quickly in the glass-walled cubicle. Her mind raced. Had she done something wrong? Or did he just blow hot and cold? She knew from her sisters and her experience with David that most guys weren’t cuddlers. She wished she could pick up the phone, call home and ask if this was typical male behavior. But she couldn’t.
She stepped from the enclosure and dried off. Her clothes. She winced. She’d shed them all over the suite, and half of them were in the other room with Trent. Retrieving them would take a little courage. But she could handle it.
She shrugged back into the thick white cotton robe, ventured into the bedroom and stopped in surprise. Her sweater, pants, bra and panties lay neatly on the bed. Trent must have put them there. Was he simply being considerate or was he eager to get rid of her?
She debated her options for a full ten seconds. She could take the coward’s way out, get dressed and bolt…or she could try to hold the ground she’d gained. Because she had gained ground. She’d taken her first lover since her breakup and her first step toward the future she’d envisioned for herself when she’d moved to Vegas. Sure, she was fourteen months late getting the party started, but still she’d made progress.
She decided to stay in the robe. Dressing pretty much said, “Wham bam, thank you, ma’am,” or in this case, “sir.” Not the message she wanted to send.