Her giggle turned to a sigh as he slowly unbuckled the shoe and slipped it off. Massaging her feet, he ran his tongue between each toe and listened as her breathing grew ragged.
“That’s . . . nice,” she murmured.
“Glad you like it.” He lowered her bare foot and moved to the base of the cushion before he grasped her other ankle and lifted her toes to his mouth. By the time he’d removed her second shoe and had used both thumbs to massage the soles of her foot, her body had become languid and ripe for total surrender.
That was exactly how he wanted her as he slid back up the cushion between her parted legs. He breathed in the rich scent of desire and touched his tongue to her moist heat.
She groaned. “Please,” she murmured. “Oh, please.”
As if he would stop now. Bracketing her h*ps with both hands, he held her steady as he pleasured her. She writhed in his grip and her soft cries grew in intensity. He trembled, fighting the pressure of his own cli**x, wanting to give her this before he lost control.
Tunneling her fingers through his hair, she pressed against his scalp, arched off the cushion, and came in a glorious rush. He savored the nectar of her orgasm until the need for release drove him to rise to his hands and knees.
Panting, he lowered his hips, sought her slick entrance, and pushed deep. She clenched around him and he sucked in a breath, determined not to come until he’d coaxed her to a second orgasm.
Struggling for sanity, he looked into her amazing gray eyes. He’d imagined those eyes in the midst of lovemaking, but his imagination hadn’t gone far enough. Her eyes gleamed with a fire so intense it stole his breath.
Her fingertips dug into his shoulders. “Quentin.”
His world shifted. This was not some unfocused desire on her part. She wanted him. Her passion—hot, dark, potent—shook him to the depths of his soul.
Drawing back, he began to thrust. Nothing mattered but the need to pound into her, to feel her squeeze his c*ck again and again. She caught his rhythm and rose to meet him as the small garden filled with the sound of their joy.
They reached the summit together, in perfect sync, and he held her tight as their bodies bucked and quivered. At last, gasping for breath, he lowered her gently back to the cushion. He sank down with her, sated in a way he’d never been before.
So good. And yet . . . so bad. Nadia was supposed to be a sexy diversion. After what they’d just shared, that concept was laughable. She was more, so much more. And he wasn’t laughing.
Nadia lay staring up through the lattice above her at the inky sky. Quentin’s head rested next to hers on the cushion, his breath warm against her ear. He was mostly relaxed, but as she stroked his muscled back, she felt the slight tension caused by keeping his weight from crushing her.
Besides being a glorious lover, he was a considerate one, too. Dear heaven, she’d never had sex like this. She wanted to credit the seductive atmosphere—the scent of flowers, the glow of candlelight, the unseasonably warm night. But she knew it was all about Quentin.
His lovemaking was pitch-perfect. He’d excited her as no one had ever done, and she wasn’t sure why, exactly. But every move he’d made had felt so right, as if she’d finally found someone who knew what she wanted, what she needed, without having to ask.
“Are you okay?” His murmured question tickled her ear.
“Yes and no.”
He raised his head and peered down at her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Not a single thing. And that’s . . . a potential problem.”
His chest heaved. “I understand.”
“I didn’t expect . . .”
“Me, either.” He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “I mean, I knew we’d be good together, but . . .”
“Not this good.”
“Right.”
“Maybe . . . maybe I should go back to my hotel.” She didn’t want to leave. Not ever. That was another sign that she was in trouble.
“Yeah. Big meeting tomorrow.” He gazed down at her. “When do you go home?”
She reached up and finger-combed his tousled hair in an age-old feminine gesture of affection. “I’ll be here two more nights, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He smiled down at her. “That’s what I’m asking. I know you have to leave now, but I’m hoping we can do this again. And the sooner, the better.”
“Aren’t you worried about getting really attached to each other?”
“Hell, yes, I’m worried. But just so you know, I’m not the cautious type who will forgo present pleasure because it could lead to future pain. You, on the other hand, said you’re always careful. So maybe you don’t want to risk—”
“If I’m going to be in the same city with you tomorrow night, I want to be in the same bed with you.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He leaned down and kissed her, taking his time about it.
Her body began to respond, and she cupped his face, forcing his mouth away. “I really do have to go.”
“I know. Sorry. But when I kiss you, I seem to forget everything else.”
“So do I.”
He eased away from her. “I promise not to do it again until we both have our clothes on and I’ve called a cab.”
“Tomorrow night we can plan better.” She sat up.
“We’ll go to my place.” He held out his hand and helped her stand. “If you bring what you need for the next day’s schedule, you won’t have to go back to the hotel.”
She laughed as she picked up her underwear and started putting it on. “Oh, yes, I would.”
“Why, because of your assistant?” He pulled on his briefs and reached for his jeans.
“No. We each have our own rooms, but even if she knew I’d been with you all night, she’d never consider questioning that. But I should go back to the hotel to get some sleep, so I can function the next day.”
“I’d let you sleep. I’m capable of leaving you alone so you can rest.” He put on his jeans.
“Maybe I wouldn’t leave you alone.”
He glanced up and grinned at her. “That good, huh?”
“You know you were.”
“I was hoping so.” He zipped his jeans. “I’d hate to be the only one here who was blown away.”
“You’re not.” She stepped into her dress and pulled it up over her hips. “And I’m not sure how we’re going to deal with that, but let’s postpone the heavy discussions and just be together.” She fastened her dress and picked up her shoes. “If that works for you.”
“It works.” He flashed her another smile before he pulled on his shirt and slipped his feet into his loafers. He picked up his socks and shoved them in a back pocket before pulling out his phone.
As he ordered the cab, she felt him watching her as she sat down on one of the chairs to put on her shoes.
He tucked the phone back in his pocket. “I don’t think I’ll ever look at silver strap-on heels again without thinking of you.”
She finished buckling them and stood. “I won’t be able to wear these without thinking of you, so we’re even.”
“I guess we could blame it on the shoes.”
She met his gaze. “You could try.”
“It’s not the shoes,” he said softly. “Come on. Let’s go down.”
She followed him toward the roof-top door. “Your socks are hanging out of your pocket like a tail.”
“That’s my subtle way of signaling what the next round will involve. I live near a park.”
“I see.” Excitement fizzed in her veins. If he wanted to make love Were-style, she was all for it.
He opened the door and glanced over his shoulder. “If that works for you.”
She had to clench both fists to keep from dragging him away from the door and ripping off his clothes. Why wait until tomorrow night? To hell with the cab. To hell with sleep.
But she needed to wait until tomorrow night, if only to prove to herself that she could. She swallowed. “It works.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Nadia had fully intended to sleep once she returned to her silent and sterile hotel room. But instead she was filled with energy and new design ideas popped into her brain, ideas that wouldn’t let her sleep.
So she spent the rest of the night with a sketch pad that was synced to her computer. By dawn she’d roughed out enough designs to keep her shop busy for weeks producing what would be a great beginning for her spring collection.
She’d taken her inspiration partly from the murals in Quentin’s building, and partly from the chandelier. She envisioned vibrant colors and crystal beads. And seductive designs, which owed much to Quentin, himself. Several times she’d caught herself looking at a concept through his eyes and knowing instinctively that he’d approve.
Coffee, adrenaline, and a chocolate croissant provided by Sherry got her through the morning. The Saks appointment netted an order for several designs, so Nadia suggested a celebratory lunch at one of her favorite bistros. They both ordered a Kobe beef filet along with the restaurant’s signature salad.
Sherry picked up her goblet of Perrier and offered a toast. “To us. We rock.”