The Ladies' Man. Susan Mallery

The Ladies' Man - Susan  Mallery


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looked into his dark eyes and saw fire burning there. His desire matched her own growing need.

      “I’ve never…” she said, then cleared her throat. “I don’t…”

      “I know,” he said with more than a little regret. “I swore off sex on the first date about the time I turned twenty. You’re not the type.” He smiled ruefully. “I’ll tell you what, Rachel. You’re enough to make me rethink my plan of swearing off women.”

      He kissed her again, then bent down and picked up her purse. She took it from him and held it in both hands. It was that or reach for him again.

      He drew in a deep breath. “Here’s what I think. You’re gonna go inside your place, smile, thank me for a great evening and close the door.” He frowned. “You need to lock it, too.”

      That made her smile. “You’re not the type to break in.”

      “I don’t know. I haven’t been this tempted before.”

      His words made her tremble. She knew his advice was sound, but it was amazingly difficult to force herself to open her door, then step inside alone. Still, she did it. She set her keys and her purse on the small table by the door, then drew in a breath and prepared to tell him goodbye.

      She was in his arms. She wasn’t sure who made the move, but it didn’t matter because holding him and being held felt so good. Even as his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that stirred her to her soul, she savored the feel of his hands as he ran them up and down her back. She could feel the pressure of his fingers, the heat of him. When he lingered on her hips, she instinctively arched toward him. Her belly brushed against his erection.

      Need rushed through her. He hadn’t been kidding—he did want her. Just as she wanted him. Nothing about this made any sense at all, but where men were concerned, she’d always been cautious. She’d had exactly two lovers in her life and she’d waited until she’d been sure they were in love and talking about getting married before giving in. She’d never been with a stranger. Until tonight she’d never even kissed a stranger. She was sure that in the bright light of day she would have given herself a stern talking-to, but right now she didn’t care.

      She placed her hands on his chest and allowed herself to explore him. As their tongues circled and danced and mated, she learned how she liked to breathe in the scent of his skin.

      He set his hands on her waist and moved them up. Slowly, slowly, as if giving her time to protest. Without thinking, she covered his hands with hers and brought them to her breasts.

      She was jolted both by her own actions, something she’d never done before, and the exquisite pleasure of having him touch her there. She decided to deal with her guilt later and simply enjoy the feel of him caressing her curves, brushing against her nipples and making her body melt.

      The ever-present need grew. She was already wet and swollen and she wanted to be touched everywhere. She squirmed to get closer even as he started unbuttoning the front of her dress.

      Yes, she thought hazily. Without clothes they could touch each other. She tugged at his T-shirt. He stepped back, unfastened the buttons and ripped it off. Passion darkened his eyes to the color of the night sky. There was light from a single small lamp in the corner but it was enough to let her see how hard he was breathing and how his desire pushed at the zipper of his jeans.

      They came together again. Now she could touch his back and chest, feeling the warmth and smoothness of his skin. He managed to unfasten the front buttons on her dress and push the fabric aside. Her arms were caught for a moment, then she freed herself and shoved it out of the way. Her dress fell to the floor and pooled at her feet.

      Under any other circumstances, she would have been embarrassed, but there was no time. Carter bent down and, through her bra, took her nipple in his mouth. She lost herself in the wet heat and gentle sucking. She touched his head, his back, his arms and wished there was a way to touch all of him.

      He nudged her backward. She went willingly, then let herself fall onto the sofa. He eased on top of her until they were a tangle of arms and legs. His arousal pressed between her thighs and, even with multiple layers of clothing, he managed to excite that one sensitive spot.

      More, she thought frantically, knowing it had been so long and that she would be close in a matter of seconds. She needed more.

      He unfastened her bra and pulled it away. Now she felt his mouth on her bare skin and it was nearly enough to send her over the edge. He slipped one hand between them and even as his tongue teased her aching nipple and brought her close to the edge, he eased between her legs and under her panties to get lost in paradise.

      He found her center immediately. She didn’t know if it was good luck or a lot of practice, and at that moment, she didn’t care. He rubbed around the swollen spot before brushing over it. She gasped as her body tightened and every cell waited breathlessly for that one moment of release.

      Again and again he touched her, moving steadily, then slower, then faster, pushing her into madness until she could only wait, unable to breathe until her body gave in to the pure pleasure and convulsed into release.

      She clung to him as the waves rippled through her. He continued to touch her and she continued to climax until he swore, pulled back, unfastened his jeans, jerked down her panties and plunged inside of her.

      He was thick and he filled her until she had no choice but to climax again. They held on to each other, kissing, straining, reaching. He called out her name, then stiffened as his body found its own release, and then they were still.

      Rachel savored the weight of him, unable to believe that she, of all people, had really made love with a stranger, on her slip-covered sofa, with the scent of night-blooming jasmine in the air.

      

      Rachel woke a few minutes before her alarm clock went off, to find the sun streaming into the room. That didn’t make sense, she thought in sleepy confusion. She always closed the blinds and then pulled the pale curtains. But this morning the curtains were all that were between her and an east-facing window. Huh. Shouldn’t she have…

      Reality crashed in on her. She suddenly remembered why, exactly, she hadn’t bothered to lower the blinds. In truth, she hadn’t pulled the curtains, but someone else had. Probably the same person who had urged her into her bed so their second round of lovemaking could take place in more leisurely comfort.

      She sat up, then immediately squealed and sank back under the covers. She was naked. Totally, completely naked. She never slept naked, but then she never brought a man she’d barely met back to her apartment and had sex with him.

      Embarrassment heated her cheeks. What had she been thinking? Easy answer—she hadn’t. She’d been too busy feeling.

      But that was no excuse, she told herself as she clutched the sheets to her chest and slowly sat up again. There were no excuses, no way to justify what she’d done. Momentary insanity, she thought glumly. What other explanation could there be?

      She glanced around the room, looking for evidence that Carter was still around. There was no noise from the bathroom and she didn’t see any of his clothes. Had he left? Would that make things better or worse?

      Before she could decide, she spotted a piece of paper resting at the foot of the bed. Cautiously, careful to stay covered by the sheet, she reached for it.

      Morning, Rachel. Sorry to duck out without saying goodbye, but I have to be at work really early and I didn’t let you get a whole lot of sleep last night, so I didn’t want to wake you before dawn. You’re amazing and I hope I can see you again. Here’s my cell number.

      He’d left a phone number and signed his name.

      Rachel read the note over a couple of times before setting it on the nightstand. He was gone. That was a relief. She didn’t have to deal with any awkward “morning after” conversation. In truth, she didn’t have to deal with anything. Last night had been a weird, unexplainable phenomenon. Like a bubble in the space-time continuum. She would accept


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