Meddling with a Millionaire (Case Brothers 1)

Yet despite her denials, she didn’t push him away. So he capitalized on her ambivalence, using words as a prelude to action.

“First, I’m going to strip you out of your very sexy dress.” He grazed his knuckles along her side where the zipper started below her armpit and ended at her hip.

She made a grab for his hand, but he brushed her fingers aside. Her attempt to stop him had been halfhearted at best. Already her resistance was dissolving beneath the heat of this thing between them.

“Then, starting with the spot on your shoulder that drives you crazy when I kiss it, I’m going to take my time with you.” He hoped this was working on her because he was driving himself crazy. “You’re not getting away until I put my hands and my mouth on every inch of you.”

He shifted his grip lower, drawing her tight against the unruly tension in his loins. His breath slipped out in a half sigh, half groan as she rotated her hips against the pressure of his hands.

“Are you wearing the black thong and strapless bra again? Or something different?”

His palms itched, and his fingers tingled as he remembered the way her nipples had hardened as he learned the shape of her full breasts. Tonight’s midnight-blue dress seemed equally infatuated with her figure because it clung to her lush form with adoration.

“Let’s have a peek,” he cajoled, only half-serious. Last time, half the fun of their brief encounter had to do with how flustered she’d gotten at his teasing.

“No.” The word broke from her lips in a passionate moan somewhere between protest and plea.

Her hand slid against his chest, finding his heartbeat. He wondered what she’d make of its increased tempo.

He cradled her face while he turned up the volume on her shivers and smiled against her skin as she tipped her head into his palm, giving him better access to her neck.

“Come on, let’s go somewhere we won’t be disturbed.” He drifted his lips along her cheek, devouring her with languid, sultry slowness.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Her objection ended in a murmur of pleasure as he leaned his chest against her breasts, pressing into her slowly. She stretched like a cat, rubbing against him, a dark, husky rumble deep in her throat.

It amused him that she continued to deny him. They both knew he would get his way in the end.

His lips descended until they were a hairbreadth from hers. “Why not? We were incredible together.” One hand swallowed the curve of her buttock, coaxing her against the aroused hardness below his belt. “Feel how hot I am for you. I know you’re just as hot for me.”

The hand on his chest became a fist. “You have any number of women hot for you.”

Is that why she’d been dodging his phone calls?

He smiled indulgently. “But you’re the only one I want.”

Emma lost the ability to breathe. His words intensified the ache inside her, a potent craving that left her shaky. And tempted. Oh, so tempted.

Flirting with him at Grant’s party three weeks ago had seemed like a harmless lark. After all, he’d had no trouble resisting her ten years ago. At twenty he’d been broad of shoulder and delicious to look at, with a cocky charm that dried her mouth and left her at a loss for words. She’d pulled out every trick in her sixteen-year-old arsenal in hopes that he’d look her way. To her shock, it seemed to work.

Until the devastating one-two punch to her ego.

Her cheeks blazed anew at the memory of the day she’d put on her shortest skirt, a brand new pair of stiletto heels and borrowed one of her mother’s push-up bras. She’d cornered Nathan in the kitchen and practically begged him to help her become a more experienced woman.

Then, he did exactly as she asked. Only not in the way she wanted.

Expression hard, gray eyes shot through with flashes of lightning, he’d held her at arm’s length, laughed and told her to go wash her face and stop playing at being grown-up. And once he finished trampling her self-esteem to dust, he’d sauntered out of the kitchen. The following day he’d left for Las Vegas and hadn’t returned to Texas until a few months ago.

She’d been thrilled to see him, believing she’d mastered the skills needed to cope with his vast reserves of sex appeal. Oh, how little she’d learned.

“I’m the one you want right now,” she countered.

“You have no idea,” he murmured, coasting gentle kisses across her eyelids.

If she let him have his way, how long before he moved on? Could she stand to spend every second of their time together waiting for the other shoe to drop? No. Better to leave things exactly as they were. The memory of their one night together would have to be enough. For both of them.

“Let’s go back to my hotel.” His hands flowed from her hips to her waist, the firm pressure fitting her more fully against his unyielding torso. “If you can resist screaming my name for an hour, I’ll never bother you again.” An hour?

Anticipation swelled, drowning anxiety, as she remembered all too well the roller-coaster ride of screaming thrills awaiting her at his hands. She rubbed her thighs together to combat a mounting frustration. The way she felt right now, she’d climax before he had her clothes off.