The Right Mr. Wrong

Praying her muscles would cooperate, she complied, yet all she could manage was to hold on as he buried himself inside. Eyes wide, she froze, adjusting to the pleasurable pressure that threatened to send her flying apart. A threat that escalated when he gripped her hips and began to move in earnest, each time taking her a little deeper.

Heat swamped her senses, until she was no longer frozen. She wrapped her arms more firmly around his neck. Tightened her legs around his hips.

And threw herself into a carnal kiss, scraping her teeth lightly across his tongue.

The swearword that shot from Parker’s mouth into hers was explicit. He clutched her close, buried himself to the base of his shaft and then paused.

It felt incredible.

Chests pressed together, heart thundering against his, Amber whimpered greedily and rolled her hips, seeking more friction.

‘Amber,’ he groaned as he slowly slid down the mirror until she was seated in his lap, his back against the wall.

Hands on her shoulders, blunt fingernails clutching her skin, he began to rock up into her. Friction, wonderful, glorious friction again. His movements slow and sure and hard.

‘I need...’ he mumbled, eyes closed.

His head drifted to hers.

Each hot press of his mouth was interspersed with a flick of his tongue against her lips, all in rhythm with his hips. As if he needed every part of her, everything, all at once. The pace didn’t increase, but the intensity did. Until starved, naked, needy noises began to spill from his mouth.

Nothing had ever been this ridiculously, spine-tingling delicious. The feeling of wholehearted—and, heaven help her—reciprocated want.

Digging her nails into his sweat-damp shoulders earned her a garbled reply.

‘I can’t—’ he slurred.

Greedy, Amber arched her back, fitting their hips closer together, taking more.

Wringing an incoherent response from Parker. ‘Ah, ’mgonna.’

With the garbled word of warning his movements grew too needy for finesse, hips bucking as if seeking fusion with every thrust. Too far gone for a coordinated kiss, their mouths pressed close, damp and hot as they breathed each other in. The feel of him slicking between her thighs, beneath her, in her, tightened the cord of pleasure, pulling harder. Until she was so taut she feared being stranded on the edge of this precipice forever.

Afraid she’d never take that beautiful fall.

But then he gripped her shoulders, arched and thrust hard, groaning as he shattered.

And the sound of her name on his lips as he came pushed her off the ledge. A fiery electric pleasure shot through her veins, and her orgasm burst, painting colorful fireworks behind closed lids.

With a mumbled ‘Parker,’ she collapsed against him, and let herself be swept away by the aftershocks.

* * *

The smell of leather and sex filled Amber’s nose as her breathing finally slowed enough for her to think straight. Bit by bit she became aware of the hard chest under her cheek, Parker’s pounding heart gradually recovering beneath. They’d managed to shuffle their way to the thick rug in front of the wrought-iron coffee table. Now, sweat-slick bodies cooling in the aftermath, she was draped across Parker, her palms resting on his shoulders.

His hands, however, were resting by his sides.

Parker gripped her arms, gently shifting her off, and her chest cinched tight at the movement. ‘I should find my clothes,’ he said, his voice rough from exertion.

She briefly pressed her lids tight, knowing he was doing more than pulling away physically. He was pulling away mentally, too, and the memory of his words punched the breath from her throat.

You know this is all you get, right?

Pushing up on her elbows, she stared at Parker. The sex had been fantastic, and now his soft hair was spiked in all directions, delectably mussed by her fingers. His cheeks were flushed from the energy he’d expended. And he’d exerted a good deal of energy.

After they’d finished the first round, while Amber was still limp and essentially incapable of thought or movement, he had rolled them over onto the rug, pinning Amber beneath him. And started in on her again.

No one had ever made her feel so sensual.

No one had ever pulled so much pleasure from her body.

But he didn’t want more.

She watched him rub a hand down his face with a faint frown on his mouth, and a memory rose, unbidden, in her mind.

That last fateful summer she’d caught Susie and Parker making out, and while it was clear he knew exactly what he was doing, there was no emotion behind the act. As if he could have replaced Susie with either of the other two girls he was dating and been just as happy. And while, yes, horny teens were pretty much a given, from what Reese had said Parker hadn’t changed his ways much.

Random women, random relationships and nothing that lasted longer than a few months.

Amber’s gaze landed on his holster draped across the arm of the couch, an idea forming in her head. He wouldn’t like it. Heck, he might even wind up hating her for it. But getting the stubborn man to let someone in, even if it was his sister and not Amber, suddenly overwhelmed everything else—even her intense need to flee the presence of the man she’d so shamelessly seduced.

The one who seemed incapable of wanting more.

Chest tight, nerves taut, she reached for his holster, and when he reached for his pants...

She snapped the handcuffs around his wrist.

FIVE

The click of the cuff around his wrist snagged Parker’s immediate attention.

Rolling onto his back again, he stared up at Amber. Her hair was mussed, her lips bruisingly red from his kisses, and guilt pierced his chest. So, yeah, things had gotten a little rough there toward the end. But he was only so strong, and Amber’s frantic words and feverish hands had hacked away at his control until he really shouldn’t be held responsible for what came after.

The guilt stabbed harder, anyway.

‘Okay,’ he said, his voice like gravel as he dangled the handcuffs in the air, his body twitching with interest. ‘I’m assuming you want another round.’

The edgy smile, the blush that crept up her face and the way she shifted her eyes to the left had him chuckling.

‘For the record, Ace—’ he stretched out his leg, resting on his elbows ‘—any woman who goes for the handcuffs has no business being nervous.’

She stared at him a moment more and it was as if she was looking everywhere but at his groin. Which wasn’t the only part of his body that wholeheartedly approved of the addition of restraints, but it was the only part that could communicate its consent.

And then Amber reached for his boxers.

Frowning, Parker simply watched as she hooked the underwear on his feet, sliding them up his calves.

He lifted a brow. ‘FYI,’ he said, ‘the addition of handcuffs usually means you’re taking the clothes off, not putting them back on.’

Ignoring him, she slid the boxers higher.

Now he was really curious.

‘Okay, I’ll bite,’ he rumbled. She met his gaze as he lifted his hips to allow her to pull his underwear into place, and he sent her a smile. ‘You got a clothes-on fetish, right?’ The thought sent a thrill working its way down his back, wrapping around his growing erection. ‘I can work with that.’

Now that he was covered, she scooted until she was resting against the coffee table.

‘No fetish that I know of,’ she said. ‘I just can’t concentrate when you’re so naked.’

She reached for the loose end of the handcuffs, looping it through the ornate leg of the wrought-iron coffee table before clipping it around his other wrist.

Totally intrigued now, he grinned at his helpless position—which was really kinda hot.

‘That’s one of the advantages of being naked,’ he said. ‘The inability to focus on anything else.’

Gaze admiring all the creamy skin before him, he took

in the curve of her breasts and hips.

He shouldn’t encourage her. He shouldn’t be so weak. He shouldn’t crave absorbing that mesmerizing light radiating from her expression. From her eyes. Seemingly from her very skin.

But he needed just a little bit more.

Desire licked at his limbs and his voice reflected his thoughts.

‘You just need additional practice,’ he said. ‘And I’m—’

She reached for her blouse and slid it back over her head, and Parker stared, stunned. And while she had been rendered mute by the sight of him naked, he had a similar problem with the vision of her putting her clothes on.

When she picked up her underwear and pulled them into place, he finally found his words.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ he asked.

She studied him for a moment, and Parker was briefly grateful that the long expanse of her legs was available for admiring.

Amber said, ‘You clearly aren’t a man who likes to cuddle.’

The statement slammed into him. ‘Cuddle?’

So what if the word spit from his mouth with a vengeance. He didn’t like the turn in the conversation.