One Winter's Night. Lori Borrill

her close. “You underestimate how badly I want you.” Then he showed her by cupping her cheek and closing his mouth over hers.

      With that one connection his spirit righted, placed back on its axis after being knocked off-kilter Monday night. Something had clicked that night, a feeling that he’d found something special, and despite his efforts to put their encounter in the past, he’d realized pretty quickly that it wasn’t going to happen.

      He liked Monica Newell. He didn’t know how it could feel so solid in a single night together, but he’d known she was the one he wanted. And when Kit felt something this sure, he wasn’t going to let it go.

      He slid his hands up under her sweater and found skin, then groaned at the pure luxury of the silky feel beneath his fingers. He loved the fact that her long legs squared her body with his—thighs against thighs, breasts against chest, heat against heat—and he loved her tender response when all those parts came together. He clasped her waist and made her shiver, touched her breasts and made her moan, hungry need boiling through him with every simple press. He hardened instantly, slipped his palms down around her ass and pulled her close against his erection, and she sighed.

      “How do you get me so hot so fast?” she whispered against his lips.

      For the first time in his life, he had no witty comeback. Truth was he’d wondered the same thing and had come up with nothing other than this must be what genuine need felt like.

      With quick fingers, he unclasped her slacks, letting them drop from her waist where they pooled around her feet. And when he tucked a hand into her panties he nearly lost himself from the wet readiness that greeted him.

      He muttered off a curse, slipped a finger where his cock ached to follow, and the breathy gasp that escaped her throat propelled him into action. He ground against her, smoothing his fingers over the soft spot between her legs, not intending to move so quickly but unable to stop the momentum. He dropped to his knees, pulling her red laced panties down with him, and when her musky scent of sex filled his nostrils he couldn’t help but dip in for a taste.

      He nibbled at her mound, taking light bites and pressing kisses to the inner flesh of her thighs, trying to tease her slowly and draw out the pleasure, but the burn for more kept pushing him to drive harder. Helpless against it, he slipped his tongue between her folds, feeling a surge of pleasure when her clit pulsed against his tongue and she groaned in ecstasy.

      Her long, slim fingers tangled in his hair, nudging him against her and coaxing him to keep going, as if he’d needed the prod. He’d started something he couldn’t stop, and with desire doing the driving, he dove in and stroked her sex.

      Greedily, he kissed and sucked and licked, her fists clasping him hard as her legs began to tremble. Her sweet taste fueled him, urging him on with the scent of impending climax that absorbed through his lungs and pooled heavy in his loin. Her breath came out in pants, growing shallow and dire with every lap of his tongue. And when her tender flesh swelled against his lips, he grabbed her hips and held tight.

      Her release was swift and hard, quaking through her body and shooting pulse after pulse of sensation straight to his cock. He’d always enjoyed pleasuring a woman, but this one seemed to give him an extra dose of satisfaction. There was something empowering in taking that staunchly held control and crumbling it down to raw lust. And when he did, the woman he found underneath excited and seduced him.

      She slid to her knees and settled against him, neither of them having the strength to move to the bedroom. Instead, he pulled her red sweater over her head and tossed it aside, then guided her down to the carpet right where they’d stood.

      His heart beat like thunder, need straining against his jeans as he yanked a condom from his pocket and quickly went to work shucking his clothes. With the flush of orgasm still coloring her cheeks, those green eyes remained hungry, prompting him to keep going as she unclasped her bra and bared herself to him.

      He bent in and took her modest breast in his mouth, unable to deny himself for the briefest of moments as he released the last button of his shirt and tossed it aside. Sex was supposed to satisfy a soul, but when it came to Monica, all it seemed to do was leave him greedy. The more he took the more he ached, one climax only fueling the need for another. So with the last of the barriers tossed aside, he quickly sheathed himself and rose over her.

      She eyed his stiff shaft and uttered, “Yes,” spreading her thighs and arching her back to receive him. And through the rawness in her voice, he saw the inner soul of this sharply mannered executive, the bare woman underneath the corporate facade. She was sexy as hell, and he relished his power to uncover her, to draw out that piece that she kept so tidily wrapped up to everyone else.

      He slipped between her legs and pushed inside, nearly bursting as he watched that sensual woman unravel. Those lustrous lips parted as the length of him filled her, thrusting deep until his cock was fully seated. And when he began to rock and stroke, a warm calm smoothed her sharp features.

      He pressed his lips to hers and let their bodies tangle together, grinding toward a climax that would take them both over the edge. He rolled her over on top of him, taking her breasts in his hands as she rode him, that lustrous heat encasing him and pushing him to the brink as those emerald eyes soaked up his gaze. This was a connection more than sex, he knew. He’d felt it that first night and sensed it again, something strong crossing between them. And when release found them and their bodies crashed together, he knew she felt it, too. It was desire beyond attraction, want that bordered on obsession. And something he had no intention of walking away from.

      He rolled back over and drove the last of the climax until his body was sated, heart thudding wildly against her breast and his lips gently stroking the sensitive space under her ear. They stayed that way for what seemed like hours, neither speaking, only breathing and basking in the pleasure of their union. And only when he feared his weight crushing her did he roll to his side and draw her close, cradling her head on his shoulder and closing her into his arms.

      “I still don’t know where your bedroom is,” he muttered.

      Her smoky laugh brushed warmly across his chest. “You did fine without it.”

      “That was just a warm-up.” He tugged her chin up to his and kissed her on the lips. “For everything else I’ve got planned, I think we’ll want to get more comfortable.”

      “WHAT DO YOU DO FOR fun, Monica?” Kit asked as the two lay in her bed sharing a glass of cognac.

      “You mean, besides picking up strange men in airport lounges?”

      He winced. “I’d like to think that’s not a common pastime.”

      She reached over him and set the glass on the nightstand then sidled up close, resting her head on his broad shoulder and circling her leg around his. It was nearing 10:00 p.m. and they were entering their third hour of naked bliss. Monica would have called it record-breaking sex if Kit hadn’t already treated her to a marathon evening four nights earlier. Up against that, tonight was simply par for a very delicious course—one she wouldn’t mind playing again and again if she could only get beyond the business relationship that still wasn’t settling well with her.

      But that was a quandary better left for another hour. Right now, she intended to enjoy as much of the generous lover as possible before morning brought up reality with the sun.

      “The other night you said you loved traveling,” he went on. “I noticed some pieces in your living room looked Japanese and Scandinavian.”

      His eye for art impressed her. “Yes, once a year I take a trip abroad. I spend most of the rest of my time planning it. It’s a passion of mine, researching cities, finding the exact perfect accommodations, planning meals and putting together a schedule.”

      She rested casually against him and told him about the countries she’d visited, sharing stories about some of the sights she’d seen and places she hoped to go in the future.

      “One place I need to return to is Italy,” she said. “I’d completely misjudged the amount of time I’d need to see the sites on my