A Win-Win Proposition (Case Brothers 2)

“I could get used to this,” she sighed as his erection nudged her entrance. She clutched his shoulders as he flexed his hips and drove home.

He framed her face with his hands and smiled. “Get used to what?”

As he began to move, Missy arched her back to take him deeper, the sense of fulfillment touching every cell in her body. She belonged to him. And he to her. They were a match. No wonder she’d lasted longer than any other assistant he’d had. She understood him like no one ever had before.

She could get used to having his arms around her every day. Get used to arguing with him as often as they made love. Get used to being the woman he came home to every day.

“I could get used to telling you what to do.”

Seven

A good three feet separated Missy from the floor-to-ceiling windows in Sebastian’s suite and the fifteen-story drop to the bright lights of the Vegas strip. The view enthralled her, but the height made her head spin. Seemed like a lot of things made her head spin since she’d come to this glitzy city. The man sleeping in the bed behind her was the leading cause.

“What are you doing?” A large hand cupped her upper arm while his other one brushed aside her hair so he could place a warm, compelling kiss on the spot where her neck and shoulder came together.

She leaned back against his warm muscles and sighed. “Looking at the view. It’s beautiful.”

“Why so far from the windows?”

“It’s silly but I’m a little nervous about heights ever since my brother Matt scared me into thinking he was going to push me from the bell tower of our church.”

Those sexy, persuasive lips coasted along her bare shoulder. “Why would he do that?”

“Because he was twelve and thought it was funny.”

“How old were you?” His fingertips slipped along the edge of her bra and ghosted around her nipple. It peaked against the fabric as a bolt of sensation shot to her core.

“Six.”

“I remember being mischievous at that age, but I don’t recall tormenting little girls half my age.”

“You didn’t have sisters,” she reminded him, losing herself in the sensual fog that filled her mind whenever his hands were on her.

“Why are you wearing this?”

The straps of her bra slipped down her arms as he un-hooked it. Missy pressed her hands to her chest, catching the flimsy material to preserve her wits.

“I was heading back to my room.”

“But the night is still young.”

H

e coaxed her to give up the bra and palmed her breasts, kneading the tender flesh and rolling her nipples between his fingers until she gasped and closed her eyes. The rest of her senses sprang to life.

Before she knew it, her underwear had pooled at her feet. He raised her arms above her head, arching her back against his torso. He stroked his hands over her breasts, across her stomach and down toward the triangle of hair at the apex of her thighs. She buried her fingers in his hair and parted for him, a moan escaping her lips as he pressed the heel of his hand against her mound.

He found her ultra-sensitive bud and circled it with his index finger. “That’s it, let it happen.”

Missy shuddered as he fondled her, breathing Sebastian’s name as she surrendered to his mastery. Her lips parted as meaningless words of encouragement poured out of her, and she felt herself start to unravel as he slid his finger up inside of her. He dragged kisses down the side of her neck, teeth nipping at the cord of her throat. Her body jerked in response, cueing the explosion that erupted like a series of deep shock waves through her.

Limp as a noodle in the aftermath, she appreciated the support of Sebastian, solid and steady against her back. In that second, she knew she could face her worst fears with his arms around her.

Spinning out of his arms, she caught him by the hand and backed toward the windows.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his free hand cupping her cheek.

“Facing my fear.” Her peripheral vision filled with bright lights and empty space. A familiar anxiety tightened like a band around her chest. She shoved the panic down and ran her hand along Sebastian’s bicep. The muscles in his chest flexed as her fingers traced his powerful contours. Appreciation purred through her. “Feel like helping me?”