Once in a Lifetime




Was he kidding? She was clutching him, her hands fisted in his shirt, rubbing against him like a cat in heat.

“Aubrey.”

She didn’t know why, but the sound of her name on his lips did something to her. Something sinfully wicked, but more, too. She took a deep breath, wrapped her arms around his neck, and melted into the planes of his hard body. “Yes. This is what I want.”

“I’m not sweet,” he reminded her.

“Or beta,” she said. “But I’m not looking for that kind of man right this very minute.”

“What are you looking for?”

“You. This.”

He traced her spine with his fingertips, leaving a trail of fire that she felt all the way to her toes. Holding her gaze prisoner, he brushed his lips across hers, his hands sliding with purpose from her back southward, until he was cupping a cheek in each hand, rocking her into a most impressive erection. There was a jolt of electricity as he skimmed further south, beneath the hem of her dress.

She arched back as his clever fingers traced the edge of her thong, teasing, stroking up, and then down, and then further, between her legs.

Less clothes. She needed less clothes between them and more full frontal contact. As if reading her mind, he gave a quick yank and her thong tore free and slithered to the floor.

His eyes were black with desire. “Do you have a condom?” he asked.

“Bathroom.”

He scooped her up so that she could wrap her legs around him and carried her there. He set her on the counter and flicked on the light.

“Bottom drawer,” she managed.

He found the box, not commenting on the fact that it hadn’t been opened. In return, she didn’t comment on the fact that he obviously didn’t have a condom on him. She reached out to turn off the light but he put his hand over hers. “On,” he said.

Contrary to what anyone might think, she hadn’t actually done this in a while. She assumed it was like getting back on a bike, but just in case it wasn’t, she wanted room for error. “Ben—”

“On,” he said firmly, and before she could say another word, he pulled off his shirt and she found herself sighing in pleasure at the sight of him, all lean, tough planes delineated with muscle born of years of hard physical labor.

Watching her watch him, he kicked off his work boots and finished stripping with easy, economical movements.

He was hard.

Everywhere.

Okay, well, if this was her view, he was right—the light could absolutely stay on.

“We good?” he asked, clearly amused by the fact that he’d just caught her drooling over him.

Yeah, she was good. So damn good…“I didn’t know I was going to be so attracted to you naked,” she admitted.

“Liar.”

Yeah, he was right. She was a big fancy liar. She’d known she was attracted to Ben for a very long time. Possibly forever.

“Now you,” he said, reaching for the zipper on her dress.

She held him off. “Maybe we should move to my room.” Which would have more forgiving light than these harsh fluorescents…

In answer, his mouth came down on hers. She opened to him completely, not that he gave her a chance to do anything less. Still kissing her, he shifted to stand between her legs, opening them wider, then wider still. She lost herself in the way he devoured her mouth, so that when her dress fell to her waist, she gasped in surprise. She opened her eyes and looked into his.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I’m seeing you,” he said hoarsely. Her heart clenched because she caught something in his gaze she didn’t often find when people looked at her.

Raw desire.

This worked for her, but there was something else as well, possibly affection—not that she wanted to acknowledge it. Still, it was there, as apparent as the racing of her pulse. Then he leaned down and brushed his lips across hers as his hands stroked her heated flesh.

Her plan had been to infiltrate his defenses, get him naked, and—she hoped—get an orgasm while she was at it.

Stick to the plan, Aubrey.

But…but what if this was his first time since Hannah? She opened her mouth to ask, but he kissed her until she lost her train of thought. He kissed her as though he knew exactly what he was doing. If he was just getting back on the bike, he was having no problems. “Ben?”

He dragged that hot, talented mouth down her throat, along her collarbone, to a breast. She stopped breathing. But when he sucked her nipple into his mouth at the same time he slid a hand between her thighs, she cried out, arching back, giving him full-pass access without even realizing what she was doing.

She completely forgot what she’d wanted to ask him.

He teased her until every thought left her brain, and then he dropped to his knees and ran his hands up the inside of her legs. Holding her in place right where he wanted her, he leaned in and continued the torture with his lips, his tongue, his teeth, groaning his approval when she gasped out his name and slid her fingers into his hair. Her eyes strained to stay open because there was something about seeing him get so turned on by pleasuring her. But her eyes drifted shut in sheer, lustful bliss.

“Watch,” he said, and she tried to, but he did something diabolical in tandem with his tongue and fingers that had her writhing mindlessly into him. He was taking her apart one lick at a time, and she was already quivering, on the edge, toes curled. She knew that she could give herself a somewhat satisfying orgasm in about ten minutes. A man, when she chose one, could usually get her off in about twice that.

But Ben had her shuddering in less than five minutes.

She was still lost in the throes and thinking she’d never had such an erotic experience in her life when he entered her with one hard stroke and reminded her there was more.

So much more…

She opened her eyes to find him watching her, unwavering and intense. She slid her hands up his chest and around his neck, pulling him closer as they moved together.

Unbelievably, she started to tighten around him again, though she tried to hold back. She wasn’t sure why, but before she could think about it, he stroked a thumb over her swollen, wet flesh and she was gone, gone, gone. Her cry of pleasure seemed to push him over the edge. Fisting one hand in her hair, the other on her ass, holding her in place, Ben buried his face in the crook of her neck and came with her.

She didn’t move for a long moment, couldn’t. Ben didn’t, either, and she wondered if he was as stunned as she was by the sheer sexual power they held over each other. When she finally shifted to get up, he tightened his grip on her. Face still pressed against her throat, she felt him just breathe her in. After a few minutes, he gave her a slow, lazy nuzzle, then kissed her with surprising tenderness before raising his head.

She took stock. Her dress was bunched around her waist, her only item of clothing. Well, except for her footwear. “I’m still wearing my boots,” she said inanely.

He smiled. “The memory of how you look, just like this, is going to fuel my dreams for a long time to come.”

She gave him a little nudge. Taking the hint, he disentangled their bodies with care, but she couldn’t control the needy little gasp that escaped her at the loss. He went still for a beat, but she nudged again. Her torn panties were useless, but she managed to twist her dress back into place.

Ben hadn’t made a move to get dressed. He unselfconsciously dealt with the condom disposal and then offered her a hand to help her hop down from the counter.

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