“I’m pretty sure that’s a fire code violation,” she said, still giggling.
“You think so? Because I’m just getting warmed up. No fire in here yet.” He picked up the sweater. “Though I would love to burn this.” He stepped over his suitcase and grabbed the handle of hers.
“On the bed now!” he ordered loudly and she gasped. He leaned close to her ear. “Please sit so that I can get by you,” he whispered. She sat and he lifted the suitcase over her head, hitting his own on the sloped ceiling, which caused her to burst out laughing herself.
“Do that again!” she cried, grin huge as she played along.
He rubbed the sore spot on the back of his head and placed her suitcase in the shower—the only place with enough room for it, and threw the sweaters on top. “You like that, do you?” he said, amused by his exaggerated volume and her resulting giggles.
“Yes!” she shouted in a breathy voice, clearly for the couple below, but he benefited as well and his whole body hardened at the sound.
Beautiful Mia, completely unselfconscious, sat on the bed with her head back, laughing, soft cashmere fitted to her curves. She was extraordinary and didn’t even know it. But he did, and was damned determined she would, too. But first, he needed to shut down the prick below, who had treated her so badly.
He sat on the bed, and she scooted over to make room for him. Clancy, unfazed by the activity, remained curled up between the pillows.
Feet on the floor, he bounced once and the bed creaked, which caused her to start laughing all over again. He loved her laugh. It made him feel free and unburdened. Then he bounced and it creaked again, and she snorted, which was even more adorable than the laugh. Soon, they were both bouncing and moaning, and laughing until they were breathless.
He wasn’t sure when it happened, but somewhere between the snort and her last moan, they had drifted together, bodies touching from knee to shoulder as they sat side-by-side, no longer bouncing. The images of them tangled up in the bed, moaning for real had taken over his brain, and he slid his hand over the smooth, warm skin of her knee, and then up her thigh, pushing the soft fabric of the dress up as his fingers brushed gray silk.
Her head fell back and she sighed, which was possibly the sexiest sound he’d ever heard.
Running his fingers over the silk, it was obvious that acting turned on had actually turned her on—as it had him. “You’re wet.”
“Yes.”
Pleased she hadn’t pushed him away, he slid his fingers under the panties and circled her in just the right spot, then cut off her gasp with a kiss.
Wet, warm, and responsive, Mia opened her legs and her mouth to him, giving as she took, with raw honesty, coaxing him right up to the edge of his control. He wanted to rip his clothes off and bury himself deep inside her while she made these same throaty moans, but this wasn’t about him. Never had he wanted to please a woman as much as he did Mia. He thought of her friends, especially that prick Jason. She deserved better. She should be honored and pampered, which is exactly what he planned to do.
He pushed her back onto the bed and stretched out next to her, slipping a finger deep inside her slick warmth, then pulled away from the kiss to watch the reaction on her expressive face as a second finger joined the first. She made a sound in the back of her throat, and he felt like he had the first time he’d touched a woman all those years ago: amazed, enthralled, and completely alive. Nothing routine or planned, his actions and her reactions were spontaneous and real. Heart racing, he felt dizzy, like he’d had one drink too many, but at the same time, his thoughts and desires were crystal clear. The only thing in his life recently that had brought him intense pleasure was closing a large deal, and as he watched her respond to his touch with unguarded heat, he realized that closing a deal didn’t even come close.
To this. To her.
To this moment.
He increased the tempo with his fingers and sat up so he could watch as she arched into his touch. Eyes shut, she rolled her head from side to side, completely lost in pleasure as he continued to work his fingers in and out. He wanted more, but not for himself—for her. He couldn’t wait any longer to taste her. Shifting slightly, he leaned over and stroked her with his tongue, and she moaned, so he did it again, this time circling her hardened nub with his tongue until she cried out. She was close, very close, and he wanted nothing more than to feel her shatter apart around his fingers, and then again around his cock.
“Michael,” she whispered, and he increased his rhythm.
“Michael,” she said again. This time, desperation tinged her voice.