In Bed With the Enemy: Dating and Other Dangers / Dare She Kiss & Tell? / Double Dare. Natalie Anderson

In Bed With the Enemy: Dating and Other Dangers / Dare She Kiss & Tell? / Double Dare - Natalie Anderson


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      He laughed. It turned into a groan because the energy required was too much. ‘I’m sorry. I’m rubbish company. I’m too tired.’ He should go home. He didn’t want to. Nor did he want to let her down any more—and he was already.

      ‘Shut up,’ she said, sounding bored. ‘I’m watching the movie.’

      As if to prove it, she turned the volume up a notch.

      Even though his eyes were closed he grinned, loving the way she was being so nice to him—in her fashion. He just needed a short snooze and then he’d be all over her. Oh, he so would.

      ‘Ethan?’

      Nadia stared down at him in amazement. He’d hooked his legs up on the sofa, his feet dangling off the end, and he’d lain down, using her lap as his pillow. Which was nice. And frustrating. Because now he didn’t answer. How could anyone fall asleep during a horror film? In less than three minutes?

      She lifted her hand and tentatively stroked his jaw with the tips of her fingers, enjoying the rough stubble. Ethan Rush was an exhausted man. She sat back, scrunching a little deeper into the sofa so his ‘pillow’ was smoother.

      An hour later the film had finished and she still wasn’t remotely sleepy. Nor had she watched much of the movie. No, she’d been completely tragic and watched him sleep—the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the long lashes shadowing his cheek. She was absurdly pleased he didn’t snore—it wasn’t as if that was relevant. It wasn’t as if she was going to spend the rest of her nights sleeping beside him. Even so, she was happy. And concerned. Because he was going to get a crick in his neck if he stayed like that much longer.

      She stroked his temple, loving being able to touch him so intimately. He didn’t stir, so she bent forward and whispered in his ear. ‘Ethan, wake up. You’re going to get so uncomfortable.’

      Okay, she was uncomfortable. It wasn’t that his lying on her like this hurt, but it was hot. All she wanted was for him to wake up and play. But he was blissfully asleep and she couldn’t bring herself to try harder to rouse him—especially because doubt niggled that he might not want what she wanted when he woke.

      She changed the TV to a music station and lowered the volume. She rested her head on the big cushions and stroked his head, trying to match her breathing to his so she’d get to be as calm and rested as he was.

      ‘Nadia?’

      ‘Mmm?’ Nadia sighed, lost in a really great dream.

      ‘Nadia?’

      She roused, realising that the voice was real and very amused and very near. She looked down at the heavy, warm weight in her lap.

      ‘This is good.’ He smiled. The flickering light from the TV made his eyes twinkle too. ‘What are we doing here?’

      ‘You were too heavy to move to bed.’

      ‘You wanted me in your bed?’ He shifted, rolling to face towards her tummy.

      Her muscles weakened. ‘Uh … um …’

      ‘I’ve missed you.’ His words were muffled, but still she heard the rawness. He pressed his face close to her, sliding his hands up her thighs, under the loose cotton of her boxer shorts.

      Nadia shivered, half trying to suppress her tremoring nerves, but her body had lit with the lightest of touches and those few words. His hands caressed, and she couldn’t help relaxing, slightly spreading her knees wider so his fingers slid higher still. She swallowed, barely able to control her breathing, high on anticipation. Oh, she wanted his touch there—all the way there.

      For a moment there was nothing else—just fingertips caressing skin, slowly taking the path already on fire for him. He suddenly lifted his head and looked around the room behind them.

      ‘What is it?’ She looked up to see what was catching his attention.

      ‘I’m looking for the treadmill,’ he teased. ‘You must have been exercising while I was sleeping. Your blood is pumping hot.’

      In lifting his head up he’d made way for his fingers to surf even higher—which she guessed was the whole point. So Nadia just spread her legs wider.

      ‘You’ve been lying with your head in my lap for the last five hours.’ Her panting mutter wasn’t as saucy as she’d intended. ‘I’m on fire.’

      ‘Oh, so it’s me making you this hot?’ He lay down on her again. ‘You like me this close?’

      She smiled back—oh, so saucy now. ‘I’d like it better if you were awake and I was naked.’

      ‘Well, I am awake—but you don’t need to be naked.’ His touches went further, softer, teasing. One hand went north, sliding under her shirt, cupping her breasts, stroking her hard nipples. ‘No bra, no knickers,’ he groaned.

      ‘Boxers are knickers,’ she argued vaguely.

      ‘Loose,’ he murmured happily, his fingers pressing more firmly.

      She pressed her head back on the sofa, closing her eyes and lifting her face to the ceiling. Her body was so hungry for him—all slippery and hot, welcoming the slide of his fingers, the rub of his thumb. She bit on her lip and suddenly pressed her knees close, trapping his hand as waves of pleasure contracted her muscles. It hit quick, hard, and it wasn’t enough.

      ‘Making you come is the ultimate turn-on,’ he muttered as he sat up. ‘And it’s so damn easy.’

      Uh, yeah … Struggling to regain her breath, Nadia felt embarrassment rise. It was only easy because she was so insanely attracted to him. It was humiliating.

      But then she noticed he was now standing, and basically ripping off his clothes.

      ‘What are you wearing?’ he asked.

      Her humiliation faded as she heard how he snapped the question, saw how his hands were shaking as he fought to get a handful of condoms from his pocket. So he’d been prepared to come and see her?

      She knelt up on the sofa and enjoyed the show. Her body was even warmer than before. The man had muscles—everywhere—and they were all bunched. He glared at her tee shirt again. Had he only just noticed what it said?

      ‘It’s really offensive. Take it off.’ His jeans thudded to the floor. ‘Off, off, off,’ he demanded.

      But before she could argue he issued another order.

      ‘Stand on the sofa.’

      Nadia blinked. ‘Is this because I’m short?’

      A muffled curse as he moved—fast, effortlessly—lifting her so she stood in front of him on the sofa. ‘No,’ he said curtly, whisking her tee shirt over her head and then her boxers to her ankles. ‘This is because I want to kiss you here.’ He licked her nipple and then sucked it into his mouth. ‘And then here.’ He moved, kissing down her sternum to her stomach.

      ‘Okay.’ Oh, more than okay. Oh, yes, yes, yes.

      Between kisses he laughed—low, sexy—making her melt all the more. His hands dropped to her thighs and he pushed them apart. She shifted her feet to please him—only he kept pushing, and pushing, until she was standing with her feet as far apart as they would go. There was something about being bossed by him that was delicious. Her body was all soft and lax and malleable, while his was all hard and strong and ready to fire, and she couldn’t wait to find out how he was planning to do it.

      So she stood on the sofa, her hands on his shoulders, while he stood before her, his feet on the floor. She could look him right in the eye—and his eyes were smiling. So she smiled too. His big hands held her thighs hard, keeping them wide but also giving her support. A good thing because when he suddenly thrust—all the way in—her knees buckled. She hooked her hands tighter round his neck and held on for sweet mercy. But there was no mercy—he was big, and his movements


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