What was Quin playing at?
Champagne, oysters, an expensive gift, chocolates…were these things meant to melt some expected resistance to him? It made no sense. He didn’t have to play a seductive game to get her into bed. She was his for the taking. That was the deal and she wasn’t about to welsh on it.
He was probably getting his gear off to save the inconvenience of undressing later on. Quin had always been perfectly comfortable in his skin. And why not? He had a flawless male physique. Her stomach fluttered at the thought of seeing him naked again.
She moved to the sofa and sat down, sipping the hot creamy cappuccino in the hope of calming her nerves. She didn’t touch the chocolates. Taking any of them might suggest she was enjoying herself, thereby giving Quin the satisfaction of thinking he was seducing her.
This was not a love affair.
She wouldn’t let Quin draw her into thinking it could be.
He was playing a game with her. She couldn’t imagine him ever having paid money for sex before. No doubt he wanted to turn it into a conquest so his male ego would triumph over the means to the end he desired.
The coffee cup was empty and still he had not returned to the living room. Was he deliberately holding her in waiting, demonstrating who was now master of this situation?
Stop thinking of him, Nicole silently screamed at herself. He was winning by dominating her thoughts!
She rose from the sofa and returned to gazing at the view. Let him find her where he’d left her, ignoring the penthouse proof of his success at making money. Determinedly blanking her mind to everything else, she stood by the window, staring out.
But her instincts picked up Quin’s presence the moment he re-entered the living room. There was no sound of footsteps. He didn’t speak. She felt the atmosphere change as though some elemental force made it vibrate with a sudden flow of dynamic energy. She knew he was there, watching her, willing her to turn around and acknowledge him. Her whole body felt the tug of his silent command and she had to steel herself to deny it.
Let him come to her. She was here in his apartment for the night. That was the letter of the agreement between them. What he wanted to make of it was up to him.
He came. Her heart drummed his approach as though it sensed every footstep bringing him closer and closer to her. Then his hands were on her hips, sliding up underneath her top, unclipping her bra, reaching around to push the lace cups from her breasts, freeing them for his touch, his fingers lightly kneading the soft fullness, his thumbs fanning her nipples to a responsive tautness.
Nicole found herself holding her breath, her whole being consumed with the desire to feel. It had been so long…so very long…and Quin knew how to touch, how to excite, how to build a pool of pleasure that turned her insides to warm liquid. She finally released her breath and quickly sucked in more air as he lifted her top up over her head, removing the bra with it.
“Stay still,” he commanded, his fingers raking through her hair, parting it, lifting the long tresses from her back and pushing them over either shoulder to flow down over her breasts.
She stayed still, but could not prevent a convulsive little shiver as he kissed the bared nape of her neck, his mouth hot and seductively sensual. His fingertips feathered down the curve of her spine, drew tantalising circles on her rib-cage, moved slowly upwards until they reached the fall of her hair which he gently rubbed over her sensitised breasts.
“I always did love the feel of you, Nicole,” he murmured.
Don’t use the word, love, to me, she thought fiercely. Arouse me sexually all you like, but love is something you know nothing about.
His hands glided down to the waistband of her jeans. He pulled the stud apart, opened the zipper. Her stomach contracted under the warmth of his palms spreading over it as his fingers targeted the heat he’d already generated between her thighs. He knew how to touch there, too, softly, softly caressing the folds apart, using her own moistness to tease her clitoris, building an excitement that she knew would drive her beyond all control.
Her breathing quickened, little gasps escaping her lips even as she mentally fought to remain still as though nothing was really happening. She wanted Quin to think her body was simply responding naturally to nothing but expert stimulation. He, as a person, didn’t count. She stared unseeingly into the darkness of the night sky, telling herself she was just experiencing and taking pleasure in touch.
“Let’s get these clothes off,” he said gruffly, removing the intimate contact to hook his thumbs over the waistbands of her panties and jeans. Both garments were swiftly pushed down her legs. He lifted one of her feet, then the other, stripping them of the sandals as he also freed her of clothes.
Nicole didn’t resist any of Quin’s actions. Submitting to them actually kept him at a distance. She was being undressed by someone she couldn’t see, being ministered to by someone she couldn’t see. Now she was completely naked, yet in a strange, detached way she didn’t feel vulnerable. She had a sense of liberation from all the responsibilities she had carried for so long. Right at this moment she existed only as a woman, revelling in the re-awakening of her sexuality.
His hands grazed her inner thighs as he straightened up behind her. They cupped the rounded voluptuousness of her bottom, then parted the soft cheeks enough for him to press the hard thick shaft of his erection along the cleft. Then his arms were around her waist, drawing her whole body back against his, making her acutely aware of his nakedness.
It was both strange and familiar—strange because she hadn’t been with a man like this since Quin—familiar because it was Quin and her body recognised every inch of him. And she could not stop a wildly primitive wave of exultation in the recognition. Her man…her mate…
Except he wasn’t.
Quin Sola belonged only to himself.
“What are you seeing out there?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she answered, her voice sounding oddly rough, as though it was being resurrected from a long period of disuse.
“Then let me show you something to see.”
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