Chapter 2
Mila stepped out of the taxi and paid the driver, then turned around to survey the restaurant. Perfect! Nothing had changed since her last visit. The restaurant was literally in a back alley, with a tiny parking lot that might hold ten cars on a good day, and only if all ten cars were creatively tucked into awkward spaces. The surrounding buildings weren’t extremely tall, but they weren’t nice either. It wasn’t a “bad” part of the city, but in Arlington, there were pockets of each neighborhood that seemed a bit sketchy.
To compensate for the lack of décor, the incredible smell of roasting chicken in the air made her mouth water. Even better, standing by the doorway was the tall, scary man who had charmed her so thoroughly this afternoon.
Walking over to him, she smiled up into his scowling features. “You found it okay? No problems?” She’d e-mailed him the address about an hour ago, giggling as she anticipated exactly this reaction. This man was clearly not used to restaurants that didn’t provide linen table clothes and a wine list that included thousand dollar-a-bottle selections.
He frowned down at her, clearly bewildered. “Seriously? This is where you want to eat dinner?”
Mila tilted her head sideways and peered around his broad shoulders, then straightened and looked back up at him. “You don’t seem overly excited about my choice.” She grinned, unaware of how her eyes were sparkling with mischief. “Don’t you trust me?”
His immediate response was an inelegant snort. “Trust a woman who doesn’t trust me? Not on your life.”
Tilting her head, she asked, “Why do you think I don’t trust you?” It wasn’t that she trusted the man, but she didn’t quite see him as a threat either. Well, not a physical threat. The man was definitely creating some very strong feelings inside of her, but she wasn’t afraid of him anymore.
Correction, she wasn’t afraid that this man might hurt her. There was no way she could honestly say that the man didn’t frighten her. But the fear was more…anticipatory rather than genuine fear for her safety.
He leaned forward. “You won’t even tell me your real name, Delilah,” he replied, emphasizing her fake name.
Mila’s laugh lit up underneath the tacky, florescent sign that flashed, “open” again and again. Several people even turned to look at her as they walked around to the door of the restaurant, then at the man standing so close to her. She ignored all of it, her whole focus on the man in front of her. “Well, I suppose you have a good point there. So you don’t trust me and I don’t trust you. How about if I prove that this place is extraordinary! The chicken will make you a true believer.”
With that, she wrapped her hands around his upper arm and pulled him inside. If the palms of her hands tingled slightly with the contact, she ignored the sensation, focusing all of her attention on getting her food.
Tavon stared down at the beautiful woman at his side, once again startled by her appearance. She was wearing a pair of jeans this time, the black denim hugging her long legs faithfully, the waistline riding low on her hips. On top, she wore just a simple black shirt, but there really wasn’t anything simple about it. The bottom ended just above the edge of her jeans, and that sexy belly button was playing peek-a-boo, making his mouth water.
“Okay, what do you suggest?” he asked as they stood in the long line. There was no host, or waiters. There was just a long line of customers waiting to put in their order at what looked like a rough plywood and cheap, seventies-style-wood-paneling countertop ahead of them.
Her laugh made his body tighten in anticipation. When she smiled, her eyes lit up, her cheeks colored slightly, and she looked…amazing! He wasn’t sure if his eyes were more drawn to her dark, sensuous eyes that promised endless nights of sexual bliss, or that softly curved stomach that he wanted to explore. Damn, she was hot!
“I hate to break it to you, stud,” she mocked him, “but you have the choice of a quarter chicken or a half chicken. You can have fries or no fries. Cole slaw or no cole slaw.”
Tavon was too distracted by her lips, thinking that he was going to find out what she tasted like by the end of this night.
Suddenly, she held up her hand as if to stop whatever he might have said. “Oh! Not true! You have a choice of sauces. There’s a spicy or a mild sauce. Either one is good but,” she patted the middle of his chest in a patronizing manner. “You’d better stick with the mild sauce. I’m not sure your upper class palate could handle the spicy stuff.”
He was so astonished that she would challenge him like that, he couldn’t respond immediately. When he did, he threw back his head and laughed. She’d already turned around, facing forward, so he simply pulled her back against him, his arm clamping around her waist right where he wanted her. Adding to her punishment, he lowered his head and nibbled on the tender skin of her neck, feeling her shiver before he muttered, “Challenging me will only get you what you want.”
He heard her gasp and gritted his teeth as he rode the passion that flared within him at the way she wiggled against him. Tavon couldn’t stifle his groan at the pressure of her pert butt against his groin. He knew she was trying to wiggle away from him, but he wasn’t allowing it. Then he felt her delicate fingers on his forearm and he gritted his teeth to keep himself from picking her up, carrying her back to his car and making love to her in the backseat. Damn, she felt good! And she was going to feel even better when he got her naked and on his bed. He thought about all the ways he was going to make love to her. The possibilities were endless!
“Don’t do that.”
She turned her head, but then pulled back.
“Don’t do what?” she whispered back.
“Don’t touch me,” he replied, staring into her dark eyes.
That pink tongue darted out and he thought about all the things he wanted that tongue to do. “Damn, Delilah, stop it.”
“Stop what?” she asked innocently.
“Hey! Get a room or move the line forward!” someone called out from behind.
Tavon looked up and realized that the people in front of them had actually moved forward several paces. He released her, but took her hand and walked forward, ignoring the guy behind him because, well, he was right.
Something hit him at that moment. Not the woman standing next to him, but the ugliness of the restaurant. While waiting outside for her, he’d been shocked by the neighborhood. The parking lot was miniscule, the dumpsters were actually sitting right beside the restaurant instead of hidden away in the back, and they were overflowing! Now that he was inside, the bright, overhead lights stunned him, the lack of any sort of ambiance other than a cafeteria style dining experience. The tables couldn’t even be called mismatched. They were just…ugly! The chairs resembled torture devices with the straight backs and the lack of any kind of cushioning. Some of the tables were chipped and the inexpensive chairs had odd shapes at the bottom of one or two legs, obviously a rigged way to keep the chair from wobbling too much.
Some restaurants worked hard to achieve a quirky, eclectically “rough” décor. This place…it wasn’t trying. It was simply a cheap mess.
Leaning down, he wrapped his arm back around her waist, his fingers automatically slipping underneath her shirt to feel the silky skin of her stomach. “Are you sure about this place?” he asked, ignoring her gasp of surprise at his fingers against her skin.
She laughed once again and pulled his fingers away, feeling a bit braver once he wasn’t holding her close. “I’m sure. Trust me.”
He sighed and moved forward as they neared the counter. A counter! Damn, what the hell was this woman doing to him?
The scent of slow-roasting chicken and the indefinable spices permeated the air, making his mouth water. Or perhaps it was the delectable Delilah’s effect? He wasn’t sure and he didn’t care. Tavon was too busy taking it all in to be overly concerned with the origin.
They were next in line and, as soon as the person in front of them shifted to the right, Tavon’s gut tightened with the horrifying scene in front of him. Tavon quickly shifted Delilah behind him as the huge man with a mustache, wife-beater under-shirt covered by a dirty apron and a massive meat cleaver turned to face them. The man was literally pointing the near-machete thing in their direction! Tavon was just about to swing her out of the way when he heard her giggle. It took only a moment, but with just one glance at her mirthful features, he knew that he’d overreacted. And if her giggle wasn’t a good enough clue, the chuckles from the other restaurant patrons gave away the joke. Or maybe it was the man with the meat cleaver rolling his eyes that sent the message. Either way, Tavon knew that he was the latest butt of everyone’s joke.
“What you want!” the giant man demanded. His muscles would rival a body builder’s and the mustache…well, it was straight out of a circus!
Delilah peered around him and smiled up at Mr. Meat Cleaver. “We’ll have two halves with everything. Spicy.”
Mr. Meat Cleaver nodded and once again lifted the knife into the air. A massive THWACK was heard and the man dumped something onto a paper plate, shoving it down the counter.
Tavon felt Delilah nudge his waist and realized she was urging him to move over to the right as well. He shifted along with her prodding, still not really sure what was going on. “Fries?” another man growled out, looking just as angry as Meat Cleaver Man. Thankfully, this guy had a regular tee-shirt on, but appeared to be another member of the criminal under-world.
“Yes. Both with fries, thank you,” she agreed from beside him.
Another giggle from the woman still nudging him, and they shuffled farther down the chipped, Formica countertop where everything from Styrofoam cups to plastic knives, forks and spoons were jumbled into cardboard boxes.
Another nudge and he stood before a lady who looked like she was ready to throw something at the next person who pissed her off. “Cole slaw?” she demanded.
“Yes!” Delilah answered from behind him since he was still “protecting” her. Tavon was ready to turn her over his knee. Nothing could taste good enough to endure this kind of insanity, he thought in annoyance. More nudging and the cashier rang up their total. Still in a stunned stupor, he wasn’t fast enough. Delilah already had a twenty dollar bill out and the guy took it, handing back her change, then dumped both paper plates onto a plastic tray. The plates were filled with more food than he’d seen in a long time. She carried the cafeteria-style tray over to a slightly crooked corner table and sat down, grabbing a handful of napkins before opening his beer and placing it in front of the empty chair.
“Sit,” she ordered, then shifted his plate off the tacky tray and onto the table in front of her. Hers came next and she carried the plastic tray to the garbage can where a makeshift shelf was already stacked with about fifty plastic trays.
When she came back, she pulled the aluminum foil off of her plate and licked her lips in anticipation. He finally sat down and pulled the foil off of his plate, but was still skeptical.
“Are you sure?” he asked, eyeing the chicken and the battered fried potatoes. They looked pretty good but…this just didn’t seem like an establishment that could roast chicken to the standards for which he was accustomed. He loved food, enjoyed all sorts of delicacies, both strange and exotic. But this was bizarre.
“Try it,” she insisted as she pulled a piece of chicken off of the bones with her fingers, dipping it into the green sauce before popping it into her mouth.
He imitated her actions, but shook his head as he said, “Now I understand why you call it The Crazy Chicken,” he chuckled. He dipped his chunk of chicken into the sauce and…
His eyes lit up as the savory flavors hit his palate. “Wow! This is really good!”
“Right? I told ya,” she smirked as she continued to eat her chicken, dunking her fries into a puddle of ketchup and munching on those as well. “I come here every time I’m in town. And it has nothing to do with the ambiance.”
He looked around, laughing but he had to agree wither. “I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t enjoy the ambiance,” he commented sarcastically. “And the service leaves a lot to be desired, but the food definitely compensates for the lack of décor.”
“Oh, it has décor. Just cheap, don’t-mess-with-me décor,” she teased. “And I think that the people who work here are also the owners. They take pride in their grumpiness. They foster the perception that they are pissed off knife wielders. I think that the customers who frequent the place enjoy the reaction of newcomers almost as much as they enjoy the food.”
He stared at her, astounded. “The guy with the machete is a marketing ploy?” he demanded, still thinking the man should be disarmed. And possibly arrested. No police officer would dare to step behind the counter though. Not with that meat cleaver in his hand.
Her laughter was enough to soothe his temper and they chatted while chowing down on the delicious, spicy chicken and the greasy, but tasty, fries. By the end of the meal, he was shocked that he’d eaten the entire serving of chicken, plus all the fries and cole slaw. Not just him though. Delilah had demolished her meal as well. As he wiped down his fingers with a wet napkin, he let his eyes roam over her slender figure, wondering where she hid all that food. She couldn’t eat that way all the time. But he loved the fact that she at a normal meal and didn’t just nibble on a salad.
“Admit it, that was awesome, wasn’t it?”
Tavon leaned back in his chair, surveying her. He thought that the conversation and company was better than the food, but he shrugged, knowing that she wanted him to have enjoyed the food as well. And in truth, the chicken had been better than good. Still, sitting across the table from this lovely woman was worth just about anything. “It was worth the torture of this chair,” he admitted and was rewarded with another laugh. “Are you ready to go?”
She blinked as she stood up and ferried their plates over to the trash. “Go?” she asked when she came back a moment later. “Where are we going?”
He stood up as well, not sure how to react to a woman who paid for his meal as well as threw out the trash. She was so different from the women with whom he’d dined with in the past. His Delilah was smart, sexy, spirited, and adorable. Instead of trying to figure things out, he took her hand and pulled her into his arms. “We’re walking,” was all he said.
She shook her head, tugging against his arm, but her effort was only half-hearted. “I only agreed to dinner and we’ve had dinner. There was nothing else in the agreement from this afternoon.”
He pulled her closer and maneuvered her so that they were out the door, the darkness enveloping them like a secure blanket. “The walking was implied. It’s not my fault if you didn’t understand that, but you’re not getting out of it.”
She shook her head, but allowed her hand to be tucked into the crook of his arm as he led her down the street. The restaurant wasn’t in the best part of town, but for some reason, she didn’t feel nervous walking with him. The man exuded authority that was hard to ignore. Even the other people strolling along the sidewalk moved out of their way.
Suppressing her amusement, she looked up at him, peering at his handsome features in the dim light of the streetlights. “There was no implication. You’re expanding on our agenda without permission.”
“Actually, I would argue that the meal doesn’t count,” Tavon replied, shrugging one of his massive shoulders.
They were heading down towards the Potomac River, the area where so many photographs of Washington, D.C. were taken. “How can you say that it doesn’t count? We met at a restaurant I picked. Food was ordered, delivered, consumed, and here we are. A delicious dinner experience was had by both.”
He shook his head. “No, you paid for dinner. Therefore, it doesn’t count until I’ve taken you out to eat.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Nope. I’m not accepting that ridiculous, macho, sexist statement. You’re not one of them.”
He lifted a brow as he glanced down at her. “Them? Is there a different species somewhere?”
She snorted. “Men who think women have a very specific place in the world and anyone who steps out of those parameters is strange and incorrect.”
He shook his head. “Oh, I have you so fooled, Delilah.”
Her eyebrows shot skyward. “You’ve fooled me? How?”
Tavon shook his head. “I’m about as sexist as a man could be,” he told her. “I believe women should be barefoot and pregnant.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You know that’s from some old doctor from Kansas, back when the colonies,” she stopped and tilted her head, “I don’t think that Kansas ever was a colony, come to think of it,” she shook her head, as if she needed to clear out the thought before moving back to the original topic. “No, Kansas was a territory, never a colony. Regardless,” she continued, “the doctor said that the only way to keep a woman happy was to keep her barefoot and pregnant during a time and place in history where wood was too scarce and-or expensive to use for floors.” She spread her arms wide. “We’re no longer in that place and you are definitely not the kind of man who thinks a woman should be walking on dirt floors without shoes in her ninth or tenth pregnancy.”
He smiled, amused by her retort. “You think you know me so well?”
She grinned right back up at him, not really paying attention to where they were walking, enjoying the banter back and forth. “I think you’re much more modern than your provoking words imply.”
“Modernity has its drawbacks.”
“Everything has drawbacks,” she countered, thinking about her presence here tonight. Goodness, her father would be furious if he ever found out how liberal she’d become. She hadn’t even brought her security guards along tonight, but they were used to her excursions and only followed her closely when she was home. Not that the threats here in the United States were less real than back home, but she felt more comfortable here, more able to defend herself.
Of course, ‘Harry’s’ presence and actions earlier today, and her inability to defend herself against him were all valid arguments that her perceptions were wrong. But Mila decided to ignore that evidence. She was enjoying being with him. Perhaps it was the danger that seemed to surround him, or maybe it was the confidence and power he emanated.
As they walked along the waterfront sidewalk, Mila felt self-conscious in the silence. Her hand was still in his and she tried to think of something to talk about, but pretty much everything that popped into her mind centered on ‘Harry’ and her curiosity over what it would be like to be kissed by someone so strong and demanding.
When he stopped and turned, she felt her heart pounding in her chest. It was a heavy thud of anticipation, a wary connection that made her both guarded and eager to explore.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
Mila heard the order, took a deep breath and considered obeying, but her mind simply wouldn’t let her. She was frozen. Terrified of moving. She continued to stare at the middle of his chest, trying to dig up enough courage to look at him, but…nope. She was too frightened. Silly, but…there it is.
“I can’t,” she finally whispered, still staring at his impressive chest. Her fingers moved slightly, experimenting with the effort of trying to feel the muscles underneath the soft sweater. She could feel his heart beating almost as rapidly as her own, but the knowledge that he was thinking along the same lines as she was didn’t help. Not in any way. His heart was most likely pounding simply because he was aroused. It was an awe-inspiring realization that she could arouse this incredibly confident, handsome man. But that knowledge still didn’t help.
“Why?” he asked softly, his body moving closer even as his hands slid around her waist.
She took in a deep, shuddering breath, biting her lip as nervousness overwhelmed her. “Because I think you’re going to kiss me.”
She felt his hands move from her waist up her arms, and gently pulled her in closer. His warmth enveloped her, soothed her in some ways but increased her nervousness in other ways. “You’re right. I am going to kiss you.” He paused for a moment and she shivered when she felt his fingers caress the bare skin of her midriff. She really should have worn a longer shirt, she thought. But when dressing earlier tonight, she’d been fairly confident that she could handle him, and keep him at a distance.
Now she understood her error. This man wasn’t controllable.
Taking a deep breath, she lifted her eyes but her gaze only went as far as his chin. “I don’t think I want you to kiss me.”
He laughed and she felt his lips against her forehead. “Yes, you do.”
Mila bristled at his arrogance, but then she considered the issue. “Yes. I do,” she finally admitted. “But I think we should just walk away from this situation and remember it as…” she stopped, thinking about him following her earlier, the odd introduction and…well, all of it. “Well, you know.”
“No, I don’t know. Explain it to me.” One of his hands was tangled in her hair now, massaging the tense muscles along her neck and shoulders.
Mila laughed, but it came out sounding more like a moan. His hands were strong and felt incredibly nice! “Goodness, you are arrogant,” she sighed even as she turned her head, silently giving permission to press those strong fingers into the other tense muscles in her shoulders.
His hand wove through her hair, gently pulling her head back so that he could see her eyes. “You’re ignoring the issue. Why would we walk away from this instead of heading back to my hotel?”
She gasped at his outrageous suggestion. “We can’t do that!” she told him firmly. Well, she tried for firm, but it sounded wobbly. “Harry, seriously, I think we should just…”
Mila couldn’t finish her sentence because he kissed her. An incredibly effective way to win the argument.
But at that moment, nothing mattered. His audacity and arrogance were swept away by the instant, intense desire that rolled over her like a bulldozer! She wasn’t aware of her fingers curling into fists, bunching the material of his sweater, pulling him closer. Or the way his hands flattened against her back, lifting her higher, shifting her body so that it fit more perfectly against his. She wasn’t aware of his leg slipping between hers, his muscular thigh pressing against her core. Nor was she aware of the sound she made in the back of her throat when he shifted that thigh against her, pressing her higher.
The things she was aware of? His hard lips demanding that she kiss him back. His tongue as he thrust into her mouth, mating with her own. The nibbles of his teeth against her lip when she tried to pull back. Yes, all of those things were uppermost in her mind. Not her hands that finally released the soft material of his sweater as they crept higher, wrapping around his neck, her fingers weaving through his hair, discovering all the softness under her fingertips.
She was also incredibly aware of her breasts plastered against his chest, aching for…something. She couldn’t think, couldn’t process her needs enough to define them. But she was fully aware of something missing, something that she needed desperately.
When she pulled her mouth away, trying to fill her lungs with oxygen and clear her mind, he only moved his attention to her neck, nibbling the skin right behind her ear. She gasped and tried to pull away, but he anticipated her reaction and held her in place, torturing the spot while she shifted against him as desire shot through her system.
A horn blasting as it made its way down the street startled both of them enough that she pulled away. Staring up at him, shocked by the intensity, she stepped back. When he reached for her again, she held up her hands, holding him off. “No!” she gasped and took another step backwards.
Shaking her head, she tucked her hair behind her ears, and hid her hands behind her back because they were shaking so badly. “No, we can’t…I can’t…” she stammered, and stepped back again when he moved closer to her.
“Stop!” she gasped, her hands coming out from hiding in order to fend off his advance. “Please, Harry…or whatever your name is. I can’t…this isn’t…” she shook her head again, trying to figure out what had just happened to her. She wasn’t this person. She was reasonable, rational. She relied on logic to make decisions in her life! She was the one that considered all angles, all possibilities before taking action. And yet, here she was, standing on a wide sidewalk in a dark area of Washington, D.C. and…well, she wasn’t really sure what she was doing. This was so completely out of character for her.
“Delilah, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, but his voice was deeper than usual. Huskier. Knowing that he was as affected by their kiss as she was made her want to throw herself back into his arms and beg him to continue. She wanted to taste his neck, feel his warm skin under her tongue, and do all of those delicious things that he’d been doing to her only moments ago.
But those thoughts and desires were dangerous. She didn’t like being this out of control. Acting without forethought was wrong, usually caused problems down the road. Mila hated problems! In fact, it was her job to anticipate problems and find solutions before they even occurred. She preferred the smooth, clear, well thought out path. That kind of proactive thinking led to achieving one’s goals, accomplishing whatever she set out to do.
“This just doesn’t feel right to me,” she admitted, not sure how else to describe her dilemma.
He chuckled softly, dropping his hands but they were there by his sides, ready to grab her. She couldn’t let that happen. Mila wasn’t sure she was strong enough to pull away next time.
The fact that she’d just admitted that, albeit not out loud so that he could know, was a huge leap of understanding. She finally realized what this man could do to her.
Looking around, she wasn’t even really sure where they were. “Um…See, the thing is, Harry…” but what was ‘the thing’? Her mind wasn’t functioning well enough to figure this out. “I need to go,” she announced. Looking back towards the road, she tried to get her bearings. She realized that they’d walked down by the river but…what street? Just then, a taxi turned the corner and she knew what she had to do. Harry wasn’t going to like it, but she needed a measure of control back. Mila lifted her arm, hailing the rapidly approaching cab.
“I have to go,” she told him as she opened the back door to the cab. As Harry approached her, she shook her head. “Please, Harry. This isn’t…I’m just not ready for this.” Thankfully, he stopped, sliding his hands into his pockets. He clearly wasn’t happy about it, but he didn’t try to stop her again. A moment later, she ducked down into the back seat of the taxi and slammed the door close. “Please drive!” she gasped urgently. He started to approach and everything inside of her panicked. Not out of fear of him, but fear of what she wanted from him!
Watching him nervously, she almost screamed at the driver to go. Thankfully, the cabbie pulled away moments before Harry reached the vehicle, driving down the street quickly. Her last look showed Harry with his hands fisted, frustration all over his handsome features, which were made harsher by the unforgiving, overhead streetlights.
“Where to?” the driver asked once they were across the bridge into Washington, DC, which was just on the other side of the Potomac River.
Mila looked around, not really sure where they were going. She was painfully relieved to be away from Harry and how out of control he made her feel.
But she also knew that she couldn’t simply drive around the city. “Um…The Georgetown Suites,” she replied, naming the small, boutique hotel she preferred to stay in whenever she was in Washington. It was outside of the main city, situated in the more picturesque Georgetown area where the old townhomes and cobblestone streets made life seem a bit quaint. It wasn’t slower. No, nothing within the Washington, D.C., Northern Virginia, or Southern Maryland areas could be considered “slow”. But the pretty, tree-lined streets and the old fashioned architecture made life seem almost genteel in some ways.
When the taxi pulled up outside of the hotel, she slipped quickly out of the back, giving the cab driver an outrageous tip. It was a relatively simple issue to head back to her room since her bodyguards had rooms of their own. They knew she slipped out but, over the years, she’d convinced them that she wasn’t in any danger. Besides, her father wasn’t overly concerned with her small adventures. Mila was careful to keep her identity safe and, since she was rarely photographed, not many people would recognize her. Besides, she preferred working in the background of the negotiations with various companies and organizations, trying to smooth the way to bring jobs and benefits to Sidoon.
When she finally closed the door to her suite, Mila leaned against the wood and closed her eyes, trying to dissipate the desire that continued thrumming through her body after their kiss. But it hadn’t been a simple kiss. There had been so much more to what he’d done to her than a mere kiss. Nor could she completely define what he’d done. If she defined their actions, she might feel…worse.
Yes, she felt horrible about herself, about what she’d done with him. She wasn’t that kind of a woman. Mila knew that she needed to know a man, really get to know him and understand him, respect him before she could have sex with him. And since her life didn’t really allow her time to have in depth conversations with the various men she came into contact with during her work, she’d never had a sexual relationship with a man yet.
Not that she was looking, she thought as she rubbed her forehead. Until today, no man had really interested her enough. She hadn’t cared enough to even try to get to know any man.
Looking out her window, she stared at the lights from across the Potomac River. The buildings in Washington, D.C. weren’t very tall, especially in Georgetown. In fact, in this area of the city, the tallest building was the cathedral of Georgetown University. So, she had a clear view of the buildings in Arlington, Virginia. They were taller on that side of the Potomac River, more modern in architecture.
It was as if the buildings and lights were taunting her, showing her the difference between Tavon and herself. He was modern, strong, sparkling with power and strength. She was more old-fashioned, less sparkly and, although she was physically strong, her muscles couldn’t compare to Tavon. As a princess, she had a great deal more power than the other women of her country, who were still forced to wear the traditional garb, not allowed to drive, and discouraged from working outside of the household. She was trying to change that. Not for the women who wanted to remain in a traditional role. She only wanted to give women the option of pursuing a career, if they wanted to. She’d made great strides in that effort, but there was so much more to do. The companies she convinced to build in Sidoon were required to hire women. She wrote into their contracts that they needed a diverse workforce. The universities were now required to actively recruit women and the schools in her country now hosted both boys and girls. It was a start. She didn’t expect her efforts to finish the job. But she wanted to do all she could for as long as she could.
The problem was mostly with her father. He didn’t completely agree with all of her efforts. He preferred women to remain in more traditional roles. And for the life of her, she couldn’t convince him that she didn’t want to be married. She hadn’t met any man who…
Mila was thinking about her assertion that she’d never met a man who interested her enough to contemplate marriage, but Harry slipped into her mind. Harry…okay, so he wasn’t the kind of man who might tempt her into marriage, but he definitely tempted her. Her assertion that she needed to respect a man was right on target, but…she respected Harry. Oh, that wasn’t his name, but over the course of the afternoon and during dinner while talking with him, laughing with him, she realized that he was a good man.
So why had she run away tonight?
Because there was much more to her traditional upbringing than she was willing to admit in her psyche. For the first time in her life, she acknowledged that she didn’t want to sleep around. She’d been so consumed with showing her father how modern she was, she hadn’t even realized herself how traditional she was.
Taking a deep breath, she turned away from the images that caused her to contemplate the differences between herself and Harry. Instead, she was going to focus on their similarities. He was extremely well educated, well traveled, and a fabulous conversationalist. He was funny and sarcastic, a true challenge conversationally. And he was hot! No doubt about it, Harry was an incredible man.
So, why was she pulling away? Why wasn’t she dragging the man to bed, demanding that he show her everything he could? He probably had a huge arsenal of tricks that would entice a woman sexually. Was she really willing to let some other woman experience those tricks when she could be in his bed instead? Why would she give up the possibility of experiencing such amazing bliss with Harry?
Because she hadn’t realized how old-fashioned she was until confronted with the issue.
Okay, so now she knew that she had some antiquated ideas about sex. What was she going to do about it? If anything? Was it so wrong to believe in sex only during marriage?
Perhaps in her case, it was wrong since she didn’t want to be married. She didn’t want any man to have that kind of power over her life. The laws in Sidoon gave too much power to the husband, leaving the woman with few choices. No matter how much she argued against them, her father and his advisors didn’t want things to change. Which was why she’d been trying to change people’s opinions slowly, proving that the world wouldn’t come to an end and society wouldn’t destroy itself if women had options outside of the home.
Mila looked around at her suite, her eyes staring at the big bed through the doorway to her bedroom. Could she do it? Could she have sex with a man who wasn’t her husband?
More specifically, could she give herself to a man like Harry?
And the more she thought about it, she realized that the question she really should be asking herself, would she forgive herself if she didn’t have an affair with Harry?
Getting ready for bed that night, she considered her options. She could ignore the attraction she felt for the man and simply go on with her plans for the week. Mila didn’t like that option. It seemed like she was wimping out, not truly living caused by silly, schoolgirl fears and antiquated ideals that she didn’t truly believe anymore – or rather didn’t want to believe any longer. Another possibility, she could have a one-night stand with him. That seemed…icky. She knew she wasn’t the one-night stand kinda woman. And the final thought that came as she slipped between the sheets and stared up at the ceiling, watching the shadows dance across the white ceiling; she was going to be in town for another week, depending on how the negotiations went with the solar processing company. If things went well, if she could show the company executives that Sidoon would be a good place for their next factory, she could be in town for the next several days.
An enticing thought hit her and she rolled over, hugging the extra pillow close. What if she were to propose an affair for as long as she was here?
Of course, she had no idea how long he was going to be in town. He didn’t seem like a resident of the area. It occurred to her that they hadn’t talked about where they were from. She’d studiously avoided any sort of conversation that could lead to revelations about her home and her country. That path only led to curiosity and she couldn’t afford anyone to start thinking about where she might be from.
So, why was she thinking about an affair with a man she barely knew?
The idea was ludicrous, she told herself and rolled over, punching the pillow and forcing her mind to stop thinking about him.
Right, she sighed as she rolled onto her back and stared back up at the ceiling once again. There were less shadows now since the traffic was dying down. Fewer headlights, less movement. Glancing at the clock, she sighed as she realized it was one o’clock in the morning.
Darn it, she had a busy day tomorrow! She didn’t have time to contemplate sexual liaisons or muscular men that made her drool! She had to focus! Mila knew that she had to be on top of her game every moment of the negotiations. She represented her country with the various businesses that were trying to find an area in which to invest. One slip and her hard work at showing these investors and CEOs that Sidoon was an up and coming country with a good work force and a changing culture would be thrown out, disbelieved. She was an economic ambassador to the world.
Thinking about kisses and strong hands touching her, making her moan and…
“Stop!” she yelled at the empty room, frustrated and furious with Harry for bothering her even when she was alone!
Glancing at the clock, she almost threw it against the wall when it clicked over to two-thirty-five. After three more pillow punches, and ten more minutes, she gave up and hid the clock in the bedside drawer.
It didn’t help.
By five o’clock, she was almost sobbing with confusion and exhaustion. But every time she tried to close her eyes, she pictured Harry, those broad shoulders, that quirky smile, those sexy eyes that promised seduction in ways that made her shiver.
“Ugh!” she groaned when her alarm went off at five-thirty. She needed to get down to the hotel gym and work off some of this frustration. She really should have done that the previous night. If she’d put herself through a tough workout, maybe she wouldn’t be dragging now.
But even as she pulled herself out of bed and forced herself to dress for a workout, Mila knew that nothing could have stopped her frustration last night other than giving in to her body’s need to be with Harry, to experience whatever he wanted to show her.
“I hate him!” she grumbled as she tied her running shoes. “And I hate being grumpy,” she sighed as she grabbed her keys, heading down to the gym. Her guards were already in place and she smiled at them as the three of them took the stairs down the four floors to the basement gym. Working out with her guards had become a ritual. They appreciated the exercise and she needed the challenge to keep up with them. There was no ‘keeping up’ this morning though and they teased her about her pathetic workout.
“Yeah well, a sleepless night does that to a woman,” she griped as she went back into her hotel room. She’d barely broken a sweat while her guards were drenched from their efforts. Not fair, she thought as she turned on the water.
Glancing at her cell phone, her heart skipped a beat when she saw the text message from Harry. “Coffee this morning?” he suggested.
He’d sent the message a half hour ago. Her fingers flew over the buttons as she replied back. “I’ll meet you in thirty minutes,” and she entered an address to a coffee shop on the corner right around from her hotel.
Jumping into the shower, she suddenly felt renewed. More alive!
She’d have to hurry though if she was going to make it to the coffee shop in a half hour. She still had no idea what to do about her frustration level. All she knew at this particular moment was that she needed to see Harry. To talk to him. For some reason, starting her day sharing a cup of coffee with the man felt…essential! It was almost as if not having coffee with him would alter the way her mind worked for the rest of the day.
Stepping out of her hotel room, she looked at her guards. “Okay, guys, I’m meeting a man for coffee,” she explained, smoothing her hands down over her hips. “Try to blend in, okay?”
The guards rolled their eyes because this was a normal request from her. Mila wanted to be seen as a regular person and not as a princess. She wanted people to take her seriously for her negotiating skills, not to be deferred to or patronized because she was a member of the royal family of Sidoon. And even worse than that, she really didn’t want her photo to appear in the pages of the newspapers as simply a person who had “good fashion sense”. She wanted respect. She wanted to change the world – not fashion. And she definitely didn’t want the photographers and readers of gossip magazines to criticize her weight or the color of her shoes.
Stepping out of the hotel doorway, she nodded to her driver. “I’ll walk to the coffee shop, Ralph. But I’ll be back here in an hour, okay?”
The man tipped his hat and stepped back into the black town car, driving away and parking in the garage. She always requested a town car instead of a limousine, thinking the town car was less conspicuous. Flying under the radar was always her modus operandi.
When she stepped into the coffee shop, her nervousness hit a new high. Her black sheath dress and double strand of pearls was conservative, but still business-like and feminine. She’d added a pair of killer heels, unwilling to relinquish some feminine vanities. The right pair of shoes always bolstered her confidence and these black spike heels were…fabulous! And they might just get her a few inches closer to Tavon’s height.
“Good morning,” he greeted, appearing at her side.
All her hopes that she might be a bit closer to him in height were dashed. The man was still much taller than she was, although her heels brought her head closer to his nose.
“Good morning,” she replied, thinking he looked incredibly dashing. The red tie and charcoal suit made his shoulders look broader, somehow.
“Didn’t sleep well?” he asked, taking her hand and leading her over to a table.
She sighed as she sank down into the chair. “No. Not really.”
A waitress arrived holding a tray with a silver coffee pot and smaller containers of cream and sugar. “I didn’t either,” he admitted as he poured coffee into her china cup. “You should have stayed with me.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “No, I doubt I would have gotten any more sleep with you than I did without you.”
He chuckled as well. “You might have a point.”
Mila’s whole body tightened as that visual hit her.
“What happened last night?” he asked, leaning forward and looking into her eyes. “And how can I prevent it from happening again?”
She smiled slightly, nervousness hitting her unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. She still tried to conceal it, not wanting him to know how nervous he made her. But with the knowing look in those blue eyes, she suspected that she was failing miserably. “You’re trying to seduce me, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Am I being too subtle about it?”
She fiddled with the handle of her cup, not sure if she could focus enough to lift it to her mouth even though she desperately needed a shot of caffeine. Taking a deep breath, she decided to just put it all out there, let him know where her mind had gone last night. “How about if we just end the seduction and move onto the affair?” she suggested.
There was a long silence and she finally pulled her eyes away from the steaming liquid in her cup, her gaze moving higher, trying to determine what he was thinking. What she saw took her breath away. “Say something,” she urged, nervously toying with the delicate silver spoon beside her cup.
“I’m not sure exactly what to say. You want to just…”
She smiled slightly, but the effort was too much and she was just too nervous. “Here’s the deal. I realized something last night about myself and I need to change that.”
He waited a moment, wanting her to continue. But when he realized she was done, he prompted her for more information. “And I’m the one you want to change it with?” he asked.
She shrugged.
Tavon watched her carefully, not sure he liked where this was going. “So you have a goal and I’m merely a means to accomplish your goal?”
She shifted in her chair, not liking how he’d interpreted her statement. “You make it sound tawdry.”
“Well, I feel used,” he returned.
She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I don’t think you understand.”
He shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “How about if you explain it to me?” he suggested.
Mila knew that his request was fair so she tried. “Keep in mind that I didn’t sleep at all last night, so this might come out a bit muddled.”
“Okay. Fair enough. I’ll take it all with understanding.” He tilted his head and she noticed a bit of the hardness leave his startling blue eyes.
She smiled again, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “I realized last night that I was still thinking about sex and men and dating with my father’s culture in my head.”
“What is your father’s culture?” he asked. He suspected that he knew, but he didn’t want to make any assumptions. Not anymore. This seemed…too important somehow.
“My father thinks women should remain in the home, venturing out only with their husbands and for social events. He believes a woman is happiest when she’s serving her husband and catering to her children.” She toyed with her coffee cup, unaware of the way he watched her fingers, noticing the elegance of her hands and the perfection of her manicure. She looked like a beautiful, professional executive, but her words were making him wonder.
He focused on her explanation, trying to fill in the gaps. “I’m assuming you don’t want to be barefoot and pregnant?” he asked, using the phrase they’d laughed about yesterday at the zoo.
She snorted, and shook her head. “No. I definitely don’t want that.”
That was startling. Not only because he thought she would look incredible pregnant or with a baby in her arms, but also because he wanted those babies to be his! Damn, where had his mind gone? He’d never considered a lifetime commitment with any woman in his past. So why was this woman getting under his skin so completely?
And why was he thinking about a long term relationship with a woman who had just confirmed that she didn’t want long term? Or babies! Hell!
He almost laughed at his current dilemma. For years, he’d avoided any woman who hinted at babies or marriage – or even a long term relationship. Now he had a woman in front of him with whom he wouldn’t mind exploring all of those possibilities, and she was shying away.
Fate definitely had a sense of humor.
“Okay, so you don’t want marriage or kids. What do you want?”
She smiled again and he noticed that the expression was only brief and didn’t reach her eyes. She was nervous about…possibly everything. Interesting, he thought. And confusing.
She took a deep breath, opened her mouth and he braced himself for her next words. “I want an affair, Harry. I want to know what it’s like to be with you.”
He stared at her, trying to restrain himself from pulling her across the table and making love to her right here in the coffee shop. “Okay,” he finally replied, seeing that her nervousness was building with his hesitation and he was causing her anxiety levels to spike. Completely inadvertent, but once again, he was normally the one stating the terms while the women tried to convince him that there could be more. He’d always been very clear that any sort of relationship would be short term and temporary.
“Okay so…you’ll do it?” she asked, glancing at her hands, then his face, then quickly away. She licked her lips, another nervous gesture. “You’ll have an affair with me?”
He thought about it, wanting so much more. But he didn’t want to frighten her away. If he told her everything he really wanted, she would run screaming. “Yes.” He watched her shoulders visibly relax and smiled slightly. “Under one condition.”
Her pretty chocolate eyes looked back up at him, the tension back in her shoulders. Her spine was so stiff, her back wasn’t even touching the chair. “What condition?” she finally asked.
He leaned forward, taking her hand in his. He could feel her pulse and thought she might be about to have a heart attack. “If we both want the relationship to continue after our business here in the city is finished, we talk about it, see if we can work something out.” He let his words sink in for a moment. When her mouth fell open but she couldn’t seem to form the words, his fingers tightened around hers. “I’m not trying to pressure you into something more. But as we explore things together sexually, perhaps we could explore more.”
He could see that she liked the idea. But he could also discern that she was fighting back hope. The possibilities were enticing though. He liked that about her. He liked that she was open to options, even if they made her nervous.
“Okay. We can explore possibilities. But you have to promise that, once our time here is over and we head back to our normal lives, that there won’t be any hard feelings if things don’t work out.”
He relaxed now that he had her promise. Now all he had to do was show her that they could work things out. “Deal!” he agreed, then released her hand. “Now drink your coffee and tell me about your meetings today,” he stated, picking up his own cup of coffee and taking a long sip.
For the next thirty minutes, they chatted about their upcoming day, talking about the meetings that they had coming up and the challenges of facing large groups of people who didn’t want to take others’ suggestions.
When she stood up, he was right there next to her, taking her hand. “Dinner tonight?” he asked.
She smiled, thinking he was charming when he actually asked her instead of telling her. Of course, he was pretty charming all the time, she thought. “Dinner would be nice. What time and where?”
He moved closer. “Let me pick you up at 6.”
She thought about that for a long moment, and nodded. “Fine. Six o’clock.” She gave him the name of her hotel and her room number, thinking her guards would have a fit if they knew what she’d just done. She didn’t care. She wanted to be alone with this man and, if she had her way, they wouldn’t be going out for dinner. Eating in seemed like a much more direct route to her goals.
“See you tonight,” he murmured and leaned down to kiss her gently.
It was such a light kiss. Barely there, actually. It was also over before she really got to enjoy it. So when he pulled away, Mila licked her lips, wanting the sensation to linger. They were in a public restaurant though. She couldn’t very well lean in and ask for another.
Instead, she nodded curtly and left, heading back towards her hotel where her driver was most likely waiting to take her to her first meeting of the day. Gone was her exhaustion and worry. All of her anxieties were obliterated simply because of that one little kiss.
Her day flew by. Nothing bothered her. She made significant progress in each of her meetings. The companies she met with were receptive to her presentations and asked several questions that indicated they might take another look at Sidoon as a viable option for their expansion plans. It wasn’t until later that afternoon when she started to consider her plans for the night that her worries started to return.
What was she going to wear? What should she order for dinner? Shouldn’t she get to know the guy a bit more before jumping into bed with him?
As soon as she stepped into her suite, she hurried into the shower. By rights, she should be ready to pass out right about now and spend the rest of the night sleeping. But sleep was the last thing on her mind at the moment. All she wanted was for him to show up so that…well, so that she could talk to him and figure out what exactly was going to happen tonight.
For instance, should she have dinner already ordered? Should she order it now so that it was here when he arrived? What if he’d made other arrangements? Wasn’t it presumptuous of her to assume he wanted to stay in and eat?
When Mila looked into the mirror, she realized that, instead of the smooth, sophisticated style she usually accomplished with her thick locks, she’d only created a tangled, frizzy nest of hair. It was twice the size it normally was because she’d been too nervous to brush it while drying it, which generally smoothed it out. Now it was just a giant cloud of dark hair going every which way. Ignoring her hair for a moment, she put on makeup. But her hands were shaking so badly, she almost poked her eye out with the mascara wand, her lipstick smeared outside of her lip line, and she couldn’t find her concealer.
When the doorbell rang, she answered it in her silk robe while using a tissue to wipe off the mascara that was now streaming down her cheeks because the mess was making her eyes water. She had no idea that it was already six o’clock, so she simply yanked the door open and glared at whoever was stupid enough to knock.
It took Mila several moments to register that it was Harry standing there, looking devastatingly handsome in an open neck white shirt and dark slacks. Goodness, he looked…magnificent!
“You’re early!” she gasped, clutching at the neckline of her silk robe.
Tavon chuckled as he stepped into her suite, drinking in the vision of her soft curves that were enticingly draped in the sexiest black silk robe he’d ever seen. Her tiny waist was clearly defined and he knew that her breasts were unencumbered. It took every ounce of control in him to keep from pulling her into his arms so that he could make love to her.
“I know,” she sighed, still trying to hide her face. “I look horrible! If you want to just…leave, I’ll understand,” she finished, trying to hide the sob in her voice.
Tavon immediately understood how nervous she was. Taking her hand, he gently pulled the tissue away. He didn’t laugh at the panda-like makeup job she’d accomplished. Her mascara was…well, everywhere! It was smudged into a big, dark circle around one eye. The other eye had sort of blotches all around it. He couldn’t figure out how she’d accomplished such a job, but she still looked adorable. Her lips were painfully red, as if she’d been rubbing them and he realized that she’d messed up her lipstick and then tried to fix it. Other than that, her face was clear of everything else.
Bizarrely, he was enchanted by her efforts. It didn’t hurt that he knew she was naked underneath her robe, but the trembling chin distracted him. Another miracle, he thought as he pulled her into his arms. “Talk to me, Delilah,” he murmured into her hair, wishing she would trust him enough to tell him her real name. He felt ridiculous calling her by the fake name but more to the point, he wanted her to trust him, to believe in him.
Right now, she was still wary. But he’d earn her trust. He had to. Because looking down at her with her makeup in ruins and tears brightening her eyes, he knew that he couldn’t let her go.
“I’m just nervous,” she finally admitted.
“About what?” he asked, taking her hand and leading her over to the sitting area. Her suite looked similar in set up to his own, although this hotel had a slightly more feminine approach to decorating than his own. He preferred the more modern hotels, but these sofas looked comfortable.
Tavon pulled her down next to him as they sat and he wanted to chuckle at the way she demurely closed the silk that tried to part over her legs. She had no idea that the silk was gaping open around her neck, giving him a glimpse of her soft, rounded breasts and the enticing shadow between them. He wasn’t going to tell her either.
Mila stared at her fingers, fiddling with the silk tie of her robe. She really should go pull on some clothes, but he felt so good. And he smelled good too! The scent was spicy and masculine and made her feel…sexy. Why a man’s cologne could make her feel that way was a mystery, but she went with it.
“I’m just not sure how to do this, Harry. I was debating about having dinner here already, but I don’t know what you like to eat. I thought that if I had everything here, then we could just eat and…” she waved her hand in the air as if that explained it all. “But then I realized how presumptuous that was of me and you might want to go out and…” she couldn’t finish. This kiss was gentle, coaxing. He moved his lips back and forth over hers before nibbling gently on her lower lip. Tempting her. Teasing her.
She loved it and leaned closer, wanting more. She forgot about her ridiculous mess of a makeup job. She forgot about her worries over how to proceed for the night. All she could think about was the sweet taste of him as he kissed her, slowly deepening the kiss.
When she felt his fingers dive into her hair, she wanted to sigh with relief, happiness, and…but the swirling desire hit her hard, leaving her breathless. He lifted her onto his lap and she wrapped her arms around his neck, loving the new sensations.
For a long time, he just kissed her and she started to relax. Hmmm…perhaps relax was the wrong word. She was no longer thinking about anything at all. Just kissing him back and enjoying his strong arms.
After several moments, he pulled back. “Tell me why you’re so nervous,” he urged.
Mila stood up reluctantly, and her hair brushing against her shoulder reminded her of what a mess she must look. “Can you give me five minutes?”
“Yes. But…”
“Just five minutes!” she insisted, holding her hands out to stop whatever it was he was about to say.
He was silent and she hurried away, rushing through her bedroom and into the bathroom. The bright lights caused her to gasp in horror as she stared at her features that looked comical. Quickly, she grabbed a hair tie and pulled her hair back, then washed her face. When she’d dried her face, she reached up and pulled the band out of her hair, thinking to tame it and do something with the long locks.
But his deep voice stopped her fingers.
“Leave it down,” he requested from behind her.
Her startled eyes found him in the large mirror. “I’m…uh…”
He moved into the bathroom, his height making her feel…feminine. “I’m just going to mess it up, so don’t bother.” His finger moved up to her cheek, brushing along her creamy skin. “And I like you without makeup.”
“You can’t!” she gasped, horrified that he would want see her like this.
“I do. It’s sexy,” and he bent down, kissing her gently. His hands moved down her silk-covered arms until his fingers were lightly touching her fingers.
“You can’t,” she whispered back. But his hands moved around her waist, sliding up and down her back…then much lower.
“You can’t tell me what I like, Delilah,” he teased, his hand resting lower, sliding even lower. She pulled back, staring up at him as she felt his strong hand slide around her bottom, pulling her hips closer to his own. Mila tried to pull back, shocked by his erection pressing against her stomach, but he wouldn’t give her space. In fact, he lifted her up and set her on the bathroom countertop, gently pushing her knees wider to make room for his hips.
“Relax, Delilah,” he soothed, kissing her to distract her from what he was doing. “Let me make you feel good.”
He was! She couldn’t believe how good it felt. He was so strong and powerful, and the way his hands roamed her body made her mind spin out of control. She loved it.
His mouth moved from her lips to her neck and she groaned as he found one spot after another that felt wonderful! Every time his mouth moved against her neck, she felt herself melting more and more into the moment.
And then the silk wasn’t there any longer. His hands were smoothing up and down her skin, the silk pushed away and it felt even better! She loved the feeling of his hands against her bare skin, her own hands fisting the crisp material of his white shirt, unaware of how her fingers were wrinkling the material.
“More,” she ordered when his hands moved higher, then gasped when he followed her command. “Higher!” she pleaded.
His hands moved higher, but not high enough. She could barely catch her breath as she waited for him to cup her breasts, needing him to touch her there. Mila had never, ever, wanted a man to touch her like this and it was shocking. Both shocking that she’d want it and shocking that it felt so incredibly wonderful.
“Show me,” he encouraged.
She was just far gone enough to take his hands and press them against her breasts. He rubbed his thumbs over her hardened nipples making her gasp, shocked by the intense feeling. “More!” she pleaded.
His thumb circled her nipple. Mila closed her eyes, her head falling backwards as she savored the intensity of feelings that were pouring through her body. She was unaware of her hips shifting against his erection or her hands sliding along his arms. Nor was she aware of him sliding the silk away from her body until she heard him groan.
Her eyes popped open. His eyes were heated as he took in her bare breasts. All her life, Mila had wondered what it would feel like when a man saw her breasts. She’d never thought it would feel this…powerful! With that groan, she felt her body blossom with power and femininity.
He must have sensed it as well because he pulled his eyes away – not his thumbs, which were still shifting back and forth against her nipples – and looked into hers. “You’re beautiful!” he whispered.
A moment later, his thumbs were gone. She whimpered slightly, but then she felt him lift her, his hands cupping her bottom as he carried her into her bedroom. Very carefully, he laid her down on the bed, and stepped away, looking down at her.
“Stay just like that,” he ordered as he started undoing the buttons on his shirt, pulling the material away.
Mila thought to argue, wanting to help him, to touch him. But as he shrugged out of the dress shirt, she was struck mute by the amazing glory of his arms and chest. He was…magnificent! Those muscles along his stomach rippled with his movements. She pulled her gaze upward and was equally fascinated by the curves and cuts of his arms and shoulders.
“You’re…” she couldn’t speak as she watched him strip out of his clothes.
When his hands moved to his belt, she swallowed. This was the point of no return. Was she nervous?
She thought about that for a moment while he unzipped his slacks.
Nope. Not even slightly, she realized. Getting up onto her knees, she reached out for him, letting her fingers slide up and down his chest, his arms, reveling in all of the muscles, the flexing under her fingers. “I think I could do this all night,” she whispered, fascinated by the play of muscles under her fingertips.
“Not going to happen,” he told her and bent down to remove his pants. When he stood up, he was completely naked. Completely amazing! She let her eyes move over his body, his shoulders…his stomach and…lower. The jutting erection was both terrifying and enticing. She wanted to touch him, to explore his body. Mila was completely unaware that she was doing exactly that. She was shocked at how good his hot, heated skin felt.
Tavon hissed when her fingers drifted over his skin. He wanted to press her back and push into her body. But he also wanted to continue enjoying these sensations. Never had a woman’s touch felt so good. So electrifying! Everywhere she touched seemed to sizzle and glow!
When he couldn’t take it any longer, he growled, pulling the silk robe away. It was draped along her curves, adding more enticement, but he wanted to see all of her. Every part of her. He wanted her body unencumbered and he needed that now!
Pushing her gently back, he tossed the robe aside, then slid his fingers into the silk of her underwear, sliding the scrap of black lace down her legs and tossing it onto the floor. When he had her naked, he stood up and gazed down at her, admiring his handiwork. “You’re so beautiful,” he groaned. Then, because he couldn’t hold back any longer, he leaned forward, kissing her as he braced his fists on either side of her head.
Her fingers in his hair felt awesome, but he pulled away and kissed her neck, traveling slowly down her chest until he came to the nipples he’d explored so thoroughly with his thumbs. “I bet they taste better than they feel,” he murmured before taking one in his mouth. Tavon wasn’t sure if the gasp of shock or the feel of her hardened nipple against his tongue was better. He liked both. Sucking gently, he tested what she liked the best before moving to the other one. When that nipple had been given enough attention, and he wasn’t sure if there was such a thing, he moved lower, kissing her stomach, impressed with the lithe muscles along her body.
But he had a more interesting destination in mind. Moving even lower, he kissed and nipped, teased her legs until they parted for him. He felt her fingers in his hair again and wanted to lift his head up and press her fingers harder. He loved that feeling, but right at this moment, he smelled her arousal and, as he pressed her legs wider, he could see the glistening folds. He slipped one finger along those folds, feeling her reaction as she arched up. Yeah, he could sense her embarrassment, but he also knew that her desire was stronger. Especially since her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling just enough to make his scalp sting faintly, which he loved.
When he lowered his head, he wanted just a taste. He could see that she was so aroused, probably anything he did would send her over the edge and he wanted this to last longer. With just a taste in mind, he flicked his tongue against that nub. But she tasted so good, he went in for another taste. And another! A long finger slipped inside of her and he turned it upwards, pressing against that nub from the inside. He felt her fingers tighten in his hair even as her hips lifted up, as if she were offering herself to him. He was just the man to accept that offering, moving in for a longer, more thorough taste.
And just that easily, she screamed as he felt her body clench his finger. He didn’t ease up on the pressure from his mouth until he felt her body relax. When it was all over, he stood up and grabbed the condoms from the pocket of his slacks, tossing them onto the bed beside her. He could tell that she was still throbbing from her last release, but he had more in mind. So much more!
Taking one of the condoms, he rolled it down his length as he watched her lashes flutter open. The sultry, triumphant smile she gave him just about made him lose it. Such a turn on, he thought as he lowered himself back down to the bed. Pressing himself between her legs, he kissed her lingeringly, letting her taste her juices on his lips. She was shocked at first, but slowly kissed him back, her legs lifting to more perfectly cradle him.
When he pressed into her heat, he combined that with his thumbs flicking against her nipples again and would have laughed at the look in her eyes, but she felt too good. So tight and hot and wet and just…incredible!
He kissed her as he pressed deeper into that tight, hot sheath, pulling out and then pressing deeper. She was so damn tight! It felt amazing! Slowly, he pressed into her until he felt…
Mila felt the barrier break and her eyes popped open. She looked up into “Harry’s” eyes, wondering if he’d felt it as well. The shocked expression in his eyes told her that he had. And he knew exactly what that sensation implied.
Not wanting to deal with questions at this point, she lifted her legs higher, arching her body to pull him in deeper. Strange, she’d always heard that losing one’s virginity was painful, but this wasn’t. It was barely even a blip on the radar of everything she was feeling.
Thankfully, “Harry” moved and the friction of their bodies was all it took for that sensation to be gone. At least, for the moment.
Over and over, he pressed into her body and Mila felt the tension increase. She grabbed onto him, startled that this was happening once again. Shouldn’t she be finished? But no! This was…she needed…
“Faster!” she gasped, then grabbed his hips and guided him, needing him to…do…something!
And then…he did! He reached down and helped her over, her body falling over that beautiful cliff and all she could do was hold onto him, her fingers clenching around his shoulders as she experience a beautiful orgasm once again.