Mr One-Night Stand. Rachael Stewart
go down well for either of them.
But the thrill of it. Of him. In public—here and now... It appealed too much.
‘On our way.’ He spoke into his phone and then cut it off, slipping it back into his pocket and turning that sexy, fuck-me-now smile on her as he offered his arm. ‘You good to go?’
She nodded and hooked her arm in his. ‘Let’s be quick about it.’
He gave a laugh and together they strode down the hallway and out of the building.
Directly outside, on the congested street, squeezed into a parking space she could scarcely believe it fitted into, sat a pristine black limo, its driver waiting at its rear. He straightened as he set eyes on them, and she knew for certain that this was the driver he had spoken to.
If any doubt had remained over what Darren had told her then it would’ve been wiped out now. Yes, he was definitely CEO material. A very successful CEO at that. She was considered successful herself, but even she didn’t possess the wealth that brought with it this kind of service. Or maybe she did...she just didn’t get to see any of it...
‘Evening, Mr Wright,’ the driver said as they approached, his eyes dropping briefly to her as he gave a respectful dip of his head.
Wright?
She smiled up at him. The name fitted him well—he certainly felt like her Mr Right.
But then he could be called Mr Tickle and she’d probably think it just fine right about now.
‘Colin,’ her Mr Wright said, ‘this is Miss...’ He faltered and looked down at her.
She realised he was at a loss, thanks to her enforced air of mystery, and gave a laugh. It all seemed rather ridiculous now. As if they needed any mystery to add to the fire already searing between them!
‘Miss Hayes,’ she said, beaming at his driver. ‘But, honestly, you can just call me Jennifer.’
His arm froze in hers and his eyes narrowed, a look she couldn’t identify sweeping across his face. Something about it panicked her. But then it was gone, his eyes were calming, and he looked back to his driver.
Had she imagined it?
It was dark...the street lighting wasn’t great...
‘This is Miss Hayes,’ he said.
Hadn’t she just told him that?
‘And she needs a lift home.’
What the fuck?
‘Home?’ She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.
Just then the heavens opened—great big dollops of water raining down on them just as she would have said more. They hunched forward against the onslaught as the driver swung open the rear door and told them to get in. He would get the address from them when they were safely inside.
Pulling her with him, he forced her to fold into the back seat of the car. Her brain was rambling, trying to come up with a reason—any reason that didn’t imply an end to the evening’s affairs.
He wouldn’t have the audacity to lead her on and then... No, it wasn’t possible. He must be suggesting they both go to her place. But that wasn’t happening. That was her domain.
She waited for him to close the door before she sidled up to him, her fingers toying with the top button of his shirt as she hooked her head beneath his chin.
‘It’s a nice idea to go to mine, but if it’s all the same I’d much rather go to yours.’
He didn’t say anything and she gazed up at him. He was staring at a point over her head, and the taut lines of his face sent the hairs prickling at the back of her neck.
‘Is something wrong?’
His eyes flicked to her and away again. ‘I’m not sure this is a good idea.’
‘You can’t be serious,’ she said, her hand stilling, her eyes falling to his mouth and the grim line now forming there.
She hadn’t imagined his need. It had mirrored her own. If he was having a last-minute change of heart out of respect for her feelings, and all that sentimental crap, then she would see to it that he forgot it.
She let her hand trace down his front and felt his body turn rigid.
Outside, traffic sped past, delaying the driver’s attempt to round the vehicle and get inside. She had time...
Lifting her head, she used her nose to brush the hair from behind his ear. The scent of his dampened hair product was fresh and masculine, tantalising her as she pressed a kiss to his skin, her tongue flicking out to taste. His jaw clenched and his arm at her back tightened, neither gripping her to him nor moving away.
‘I want you,’ she whispered into his ear, and his breath hitched.
His waning resolve urged her on. She nuzzled him as her hand slid down his front, over his torso, the buckle of his belt, his zipper, to his left thigh, where she knew the length of his cock lay. She felt it swell obediently into her palm as a curse ripped from his throat.
Victorious, she used her teeth on his lobe. ‘See...you want this too.’
She gripped him hard and he inhaled sharply, a hiss forming through his teeth.
She traced the edge of his ear with her tongue as her hand started to move over him, around him. ‘Just tell me you don’t and I’ll stop.’
‘Jennifer...’ He groaned her name as he pressed back into his seat, his lower body riding upwards to increase the pressure of her hand.
‘That’s it, baby,’ she cooed. ‘Feels good, doesn’t it?’
‘Fuck, yeah,’ he rasped, and she felt her carnal prowess take a bow, the power going straight to her head, liquid heat pooling between her legs.
The front door yanked open—shit!
They both sat bolt upright, like a pair of teenagers caught in the act, faces flushed, eyes wide.
The driver clambered in and glanced over his shoulder, his expression one of pure professionalism, as though they hadn’t a hair out of place...or several—
‘Where to, sir?’
‘Home.’
The driver’s brows lifted. ‘Your home, sir?’
‘That’s what I said.’
Then he hit a button that had the privacy glass sliding up.
Was that stuff really private?
She was about to ask when he took hold of her hips and swung her over his lap, the speed of the move sending a surprised gasp from her lips that swiftly turned to a moan as she found herself over the very hardness of him, her knees straddling him, her dress thrust up to her hips. He raked a hand through her hair and yanked her mouth down to his own, his tongue pillaging, his hands rough upon her thigh and her hair.
Hooking her hands around his neck, she clung to him, desperate to keep their mouths connected while her body started to ride his clothed hardness in mindless abandon.
Vaguely she was aware of his hands shifting, his fingers hooking beneath the dress at her shoulders and shoving it down, imprisoning her arms to her sides.
He broke away, forcing her back so that he could look at her.
Her breasts bloomed under his burning gaze, her nipples straining beneath the light padding of her bra. He brought his hands up to her shoulders, his touch now gentle and prolonged as he slid them beneath the straps, taking them down to meet the ruched fabric of her dress before returning to smooth over her shoulders and down her front.
She bit back a whimper of anticipation