Apparently her country boy was the type to unpack as soon as he settled into a hotel room.
She grabbed the condoms. “Magnums. How adorable. You know they make these so even a less-than-average-size guy can wear them and get an ego boost, right?”
He laughed, the sound making her thighs clench together. “Woman, you’re as mean as a copperhead. Come here and let’s find out if you’re as cold-blooded.”
Ouch. She toyed with one bra strap, determined not to show how much his comment stung. She was mean, and she put a lot of effort into keeping that personality at the forefront. In a dog-eat-dog world, only the strong survived, and women in the corporate world had two prominent options—play up their femininity and never threaten their male colleagues’ masculinity, or become even bigger ball-busters than the men were.
She’d always figured there was a time and place for both, though she refused to let anyone steamroll her. She reached back and unclasped her bra. Then she dropped it to the side, leaving her in only her purple silk panties.
Brock swallowed visibly. “Damn.”
Even as heat sizzled through her body at his blatant appreciation, she hated herself for the weakness. Of course he thought she was gorgeous—she was standing in front of him mostly naked. It wasn’t like he’d actually turn her down once he saw her in the skin.
The question remained—where to go from here? He looked half a second from bursting out of that chair and tossing her on the bed, which meant she needed a solution and fast. She held up a finger. “Stay.”
That same slow grin spread over Brock’s face. “Ruff.”
A giggle burst free before she realized it was coming. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And I was right when I reckoned you had a sense of humor. We all win.”
“Yeah, yeah. Hands on your thighs, palms down.”
“How am I supposed to touch you if my hands are on my legs?”
He wasn’t, which was the plan. She crossed her arms under her breasts, lifting them to draw his attention there. “I could just as easily put my clothes back on and go find my entertainment elsewhere.”
Just like that, all joking was gone from his face. His eyes darkened until they were nearly black—and they hadn’t been that far off to begin with. “We’ll play things your way—this time.”
There wouldn’t be a next time.
He followed her instructions, pressing his hands to his thighs. She moved a bit closer. “Remember—you touch me, this ends.” Because she’d forget all reason and lose herself completely. This was the type of man who expected that kind of response from his partners, and got it through sheer force of personality. She couldn’t let him take control.
Regan went to her knees in front of him, eyeing the way his hard length pressed against his slacks. “Why don’t we just loosen things up a bit?”
“By all means.”
She carefully undid his pants and pulled them back to free his cock. Holy shit. Apparently he hadn’t been joking about the Magnum size. Almost idly, she dragged her thumbnail from his tip to his base. “Impressive.” And he was.
He spoke through his teeth. “So glad I pass your inspection.”
“Oh Scarlett, I haven’t even started inspecting.” She palmed his cock, trying to keep from shaking as he filled her hand. She wanted him inside her, and she wanted it now.
Even so, she made them both wait as she worked him, enjoying the way every muscle in his body went tight with each downstroke. He was gorgeous in a raw way so few men were anymore, as much a force of nature as the mountains around this resort.
And he was hers for the night.
Unable to contain herself any longer, she slipped her free hand into her panties and spread her wetness around her clit. She was already ready to take him, but teasing them both was too much fun to pass up. A breathy little moan slipped free as her orgasm built around her, and—
Brock’s eyes snapped open. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t worry about it.” She squeezed him a little tighter as she kept circling her clit, pushing herself closer and closer to release.
He leaned forward. “You’re playing with yourself.”
No point in denying it. Not when she was so close already. “Yeah.”
“Stop.”
Fat chance of that happening. She pushed a finger inside herself and hissed out a breath.
“Jesus, Regan. Get up here and let me touch you.”
If he did, there’d be no going back. More than that, she wanted to torment him just a little bit, to keep something back. A part of her he could never touch. Her orgasm hit her like a freight truck and she cried out and slumped over his lap. He cursed, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it unless he wanted to knock her to the floor and break their bargain.
She loved that he didn’t move despite the tension riding through every part of his body. She took a deep breath and pressed a kiss to his stomach. “God, that was good.”
“You weren’t kidding when you said there was nothing sweet about you. That orgasm should have been mine.”
For a second she thought he was pissed because she’d come first, but then she looked up and saw the expression on his face. Holy shit. He wanted to be the one making her come. The answering heat that rose in her at the realization stoked her desire higher than she thought possible. If she let him, he’d make her come again. Hell, he’d probably wring as many orgasms from her as he could, until she was boneless from pleasure and completely incapable of walking away.
Physically or otherwise.
He might be hotter than the devil, but no one was hot enough to make her lose herself. She couldn’t afford it.
She dredged up a grin as she reached behind her for the box of condoms. Regan tore one free and rolled it onto his cock, squeezing him again for good measure. While he was busy groaning, she stood and slid off her panties.
Brock cursed again. “You couldn’t have even one imperfection, could you?”
“Imperfection? Someone’s using his Word of the Day app.”
“Gotta in order to keep up with fancy pants like you.” His dark eyes burned into her. Before she could process his intentions, he grabbed her hips and pulled her onto him. The feeling of those big hands on her skin had her biting back the need to beg him to keep touching her until she forgot all the reasons why this was a terrible idea.
She went rigid. Regan did a lot of things but she never, ever begged.
He coasted one hand up her spine to cup the back of her neck. “Kiss me, darlin’.”
She wanted to. God, she wanted to. His lips were a breath away, and too tempting by half. She could almost feel them on her skin…
“No.” If she let him kiss her, she’d lose what little control she had left. It might be very Pretty Woman of her, but she didn’t believe in kissing her flings. It was too personal, opening up too many vulnerabilities he didn’t have a right to. She grabbed his wrists and moved his hands off her body. If one touch could make her forget herself… She couldn’t risk it happening again. “Keep your hands to yourself and stick to the plan, Scarlett. Otherwise, I walk.”
Something she needed to forcibly remind herself—this man had no place in her life plans.
Chapter Three
Brock couldn’t decide if he was pissed or too turned on to care. Regan hadn’t molded to any of his initial expectations, taking charge as soon as they got to his room instead of letting him get his hands on her. Looking back, he should have seen it coming from how she’d turned the tables on him at the bar, but it was too late to worry about it now that she had a hold of his wrists and that strange look on her face. Because she would leave if he touched her again. She was too damn stubborn not to follow through on that threat.
The way her hands shook told all he needed to know. He wasn’t getting that kiss—not now. But the thought of doing it affected her more than the orgasm she’d just stolen from him. She wanted that kiss—probably as desperately as he did. She just wouldn?