She blinked at him, and her creamy ivory skin paled even further, but she recovered quickly, drawing in a breath and reaching for the zipper running up the front of her dress. His blood thundered in his ears like he was some kind of randy teenager who hadn’t seen plenty of hot woman, and hot flesh, before. What the hell was it about this woman that set off a firestorm inside him? But he knew. His gut twisted with just how well he knew. She was gorgeous, out of her element, and she needed to be saved. Like someone else he’d failed to save. And damn it to hell, he thought he had enough distance from this to be calculated and cold, to finish this once and for all.
The dress shimmered down his new temptation’s hips and fell to the ground, leaving her wearing a cream-colored bra and panties set with little diamond sparkles, thigh-highs and heels. He drew in a heavy breath, reeling in the desire he knew he had to control. There was so much more on the line than sex, mostly for her.
She reached for her bra and he moved quickly, surprising her, and shackling her wrist. She was flat on the mattress, and beneath him in an instant, one of his legs between hers, because both would have been too much to bear. As it was, that scent of hers, all sweet and flowery, was like fire licking at his limbs. And his cock, which was against her hip, throbbed with the promise of how close he was to the also sweet V of her legs.
“You don’t have to do this,” he told her.
“I thought we already covered this?”
“Not well enough. You aren’t too far gone to turn back.”
“This coming from a man who has me almost naked in a hotel bed with him?”
“Almost, sweetheart. I didn’t think you’d have the courage to really strip for me. Whatever it is you think working for this guy will fix, it won’t. What do you need? Money? I’ll give you money if you promise to walk away from this and never look back.”
“So I’ll work for you instead of him?”
“No strings. You never have to see me again.”
“Are you seriously trying to save me?” she asked.
“Yes. I am.”
She studied him a long moment before her fingers curled on his cheek, the simple, delicate touch, sending a rippling sensation through his body. “You know what they say about those who try too hard to save other people?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “They say they need saving themselves.”
His hand slid to hers. “I’m way beyond saving, sweetheart.”
“So am I,” she whispered.
“I don’t believe that.”
“Then you’re looking too hard for something that’s not there.”
“I don’t think so.”
“If I can be saved then so can you.”
His lips twisted cynically. “We aren’t even in the same universe. Believe me. I’m lost. You can still be found.”
“You sound so sure.” She reached up and stroked his hair from where it already began to fall from the back at his neck, his fingers tugging it forward. Every time she touched him, his entire body burned. She had no idea how much willpower it required for him not to slide between her thighs and settle in for a long, hot night. “I wonder,” she contemplated, studying him with big, gorgeous eyes, he could get lost in forever, “if maybe we should both try to save each other and then in the morning, pretend we didn’t?”
Or maybe, Blake thought, in the morning he’d fly her off to some tropical paradise, away from this wicked winter hell of Alvarez’s world, and convince her she never has to come back.
The Negotiation…
Blake’s mouth came down on hers, and this time he didn’t hold back. He wanted to save her. She wanted to save him. She didn’t have a chance where he was concerned, but the wicked heat of her kiss, the delicate play of her tongue against his, sure as hell would go a long way in helping him forget why that wasn’t possible, at least, for tonight.
His hand slid down her neck, over the soft silk of her shoulder and he tugged her bra strap down with him. Her skin was cool and he was hot. He wanted her hot in a nearly consuming way. It was illogical but he really didn’t care. His mouth traveled the delicate line of her shoulder blade and downward. Her fingers played in his hair, her touch affecting him far too easily, but then there wasn’t a lot of softness he let in his life. Normally, he’d snatch her hand, and hold it over her head. He’d do the touching, not her, so why wasn’t he doing that now? Why wasn’t he stopping her? Why the hell was he lingering at the sweet spot at the base of her throat when he could be ripping away her panties and burying himself inside her?
After all, he’d been on the edge before he’d ever met her, ready to finally get what he wanted, what he’d craved for two years. Knowing he was still too far away. His need for an escape, for something hard, fast, and furious, should be driving him. Instead an inescapable, dangerously distracting, need to save this woman, to please her, consumed him.