One Wicked Week. Nicola Marsh

mouth eased into a sexy grin. ‘Let’s eat.’

      He took a seat next to her, close enough that their knees touched, sending a jolt of longing arrowing straight between her legs.

      When she sat forward to serve herself, he laid a hand over hers. ‘Let me.’

      Emotion clogged her throat so she nodded and eased away slightly so they weren’t touching. She’d expected them to tumble into bed the moment they entered his apartment. Instead, he’d done this. She didn’t know whether he’d tried to put her at ease or to show he wasn’t a sex maniac, but she appreciated the gesture. He’d made her feel more special in the last few minutes than any of her dates had over the last few years.

      ‘Here you go.’ He handed her a plate covered with crackers, tiny wedges of Brie, a slice of Camembert, a dob of quince paste and a small bunch of grapes.

      ‘Thanks.’ Her voice wobbled and she masked her insecurity by flashing a dazzling smile. ‘I’ll need sustenance for later.’

      One corner of his delectable mouth quirked at her innuendo. ‘Are you planning on ravishing me all night?’

      ‘Only if you’re lucky.’ Jayda winked, hoping he couldn’t read the uncertainty ricocheting through her. Now that she was at his place with the sole intention of having sex, some of her earlier chutzpah at the club had deserted her.

      She could blame it on her weakness for creamy cheese but knew better. He’d disarmed her with his thoughtfulness and she couldn’t let emotions enter into this. She could handle great sex with a hot guy. But having him make her feel anything...no, she couldn’t allow it.

      She piled Brie on a cracker, swiped it through the quince paste and stuffed the lot into her mouth before she said something she’d regret. Like goodbye. No point getting into a funk now. She wanted this. It had been too long. She needed to get laid, sooner rather than later.

      Sensing her reticence to talk, he nibbled on a cracker, then another, giving her time to...what? Compose herself? Stuff her face? Second-guess the wisdom of this? The fraught silence stretched between them and despite consuming most of the Brie and crackers on her plate, the hollow feeling in her stomach hadn’t abated.

      She needed more than food.

      She needed him.

      ‘Brock?’

      ‘Yeah?’

      ‘I want you...’ she murmured, unprepared for the sheer hunger with which he launched himself at her. Her plate tumbled to the floor, scattering cheese and crackers and grapes across the pristine marble. Neither of them cared.

      ‘I’m going nuts over here, trying to do the right thing and not fuck you senseless like I want to,’ he said, his mouth grazing her ear as his weight pressed her into the sofa, the feel of his cock pressed against her sweet spot making her whimper with need.

      ‘There’s no doing the right thing.’ She clasped his face in her hands so he had to look at her. ‘This is you and me. No expectations, just a night of great sex.’

      She grazed his bottom lip with her thumb and he inhaled sharply. ‘We’ve been here before and our ability to not complicate this is exactly why I made a pass at you back at the club.’

      His eyes darkened to ebony. ‘As I remember, I grabbed your hand and pressed it to this.’ He ground his cock against her and she couldn’t help but moan. ‘So I made the pass.’

      ‘Exactly how long are we going to discuss technicalities?’ She arched her pelvis, vindicated when passion hazed his eyes. ‘Because we could be having a lot more fun right now rather than talking.’

      He pinned her with a stare that bored all the way down to her soul and she blinked to dispel the inexplicable burn of tears. This guy made her happy. Correction, what he could do to her body made her happy and no way in hell would she spoil this encounter with emotion because he’d been the last guy to make her feel good about herself.

      ‘I want to make sure you really want this.’ He reached up to gently dislodge her hands from his face. ‘This is nothing like six years ago—’

      ‘No, it’s not. Because I’m stronger now, in control and capable of choosing who I want to have phenomenal sex with, and tonight I choose you.’

      When he continued to eyeball her with solemnity, she surged upwards, forcing him to sit up. Time to show him with actions how much she wanted him.

      Resting her hands on his shoulders, she held him in place while she swung a leg over him. His breath hissed out when she lowered herself onto his lap and gave a little wriggle for good measure. Straddling him left him under no illusions she was in charge and so hot for him she could barely breathe. ‘I want this to happen, Brock, but if you don’t—’

      He kissed her, commanding and demanding, using actions to convey exactly how much he wanted this to happen too. His hands gripped her waist and she hated the momentary flare of unease that he’d feel her squishy bits. She wriggled self-consciously and his hands slid from her waist to her ass. Much better. Her booty may be larger than most but thanks to countless hours on the treadmill it had tone.

      ‘I love how you feel,’ he murmured, kneading her ass with his hands as he trailed his lips across her jaw before dipping lower to the nook above her collarbone.

      ‘And taste.’ He lapped at her, as she marvelled at how he remembered her sensitive spot. The guy truly was a genius.

      Her head fell back as he nipped her collarbone with his teeth, the fleeting sting of pain soothed by the return of his tongue. Man, that tongue. The thought of what was to come had her writhing against him.

      ‘Easy, sweetheart,’ he murmured. ‘Unless you want this first time to be fast?’

      ‘Fast is good,’ she gritted out as he traced the cleft of her ass with the barest fingertip through her panties. Thank goodness she’d had the foresight to take off the tight control ones. ‘The faster the better.’

      He chuckled, the deep sound rippling over her like a caress. ‘Okay then.’

      He stood so abruptly she almost fell but his hands under her ass tightened and she clung to his neck.

      ‘Put me down, you’ll hurt your back.’

      He ignored her warning and hoisted her higher, making her squeal. He must work out these days because she weighed a freaking tonne and he carried her with minimal effort.

      ‘Are you nuts? You’ll get a hernia—’

      ‘You have a rocking bod and I don’t want to hear any of that self-conscious shit, okay?’ He nudged open a door with his foot and entered a bedroom as big as her apartment. ‘I loved your body at uni and from what I’ve imagined beneath that hideous black dress it’s just as sexy now, so quit it.’

      Yeah, he definitely had a knack for making her feel good and when he placed her gently on a king-size bed she wanted to hug him. He towered over her, his frown formidable, but nothing could detract from the lust blazing in his eyes.

      He was seriously into her and nothing was more empowering.

      Bracing on her elbows, she nudged him with her foot. ‘If this dress is so hideous, why don’t you take it off?’

      ‘Oh, I intend to,’ he said, moving towards a side table. He opened the drawer and pulled out a string of condoms, five in total. Wowza, what a way to break her drought.

      ‘You planning on using all those tonight?’

      She held her breath as a wicked grin alerted her that she’d like his answer very much indeed.

      ‘I’m hopeful.’ He dangled the string of condoms in front of her, swinging it side to side like a pendulum trying to hypnotise her. ‘Very, very hopeful.’

      She laughed. ‘Why don’t you start by stripping for me?’

      The