Chapter Three

The silence in the bathroom would normally have had Cynthia moving to fill the uncomfortable space in time. Long pauses, tension simmering, her family lived like that. No harsh words were spoken, but silent loathing had been her father’s brutal weapon. She’d mastered the skill to cover her insecurities and to banish too many of her childhood memories.

Unfortunately, in the few hours since she’d met Chris, her usual social skills had fallen by the wayside. From the moment Max first introduced them, she’d been acting like the worst idiot. So, she figured propositioning him was the cherry on top of the sundae.

As he stood there, his face without expression, she realized she may have shocked him. Cynthia Myers was not the type of woman who offered to lick men’s bodies, especially those of men she’d just met. Something else was driving her on. Something she wanted to feel, something she wanted to do with him. To him.

It was shocking, to say the least. With only two lovers in her past, she’d never lusted after them like this. It was as if someone had lit a match to her soul. All she understood was that it was important she make this work. Desperation clawed at her, pushed her to the edge. Odd, as she’d never had these yearnings before. She’d sort out why later, but now she wanted Chris.

“You’ve had too much to drink,” Chris said.

She glanced up at him, saw the hunger smoldering in his eyes. He wanted her. It baffled her, but he did, and she didn’t care why or for how long. Even with need etched in his face, burning in his gaze, he was frowning at her. Great. I finally decide to throw caution to the wind, and I pick a six-foot dream of a man with a conscience.

“I haven’t had too much to drink.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wobbled on the ledge of the bathtub, losing her balance, and almost falling backward. Chris stepped forward and grabbed her, pulling her up and saving her from the fall, but also spilling champagne on both of them.

She ended up against him, their wet clothes sticking to their skin, making it very easy to feel the contours of his sculpted muscles. Sighing in appreciation, she splayed her free hand against his chest. Her nipples pebbled beneath the damp fabric of her blouse. His breathing deepened. As she slid her hands up over his pecs, she felt his heart beating, fast and hard. She shifted her feet to stand in front of him, her stomach brushing his groin. She stilled, marveling at the rigid shaft pulsing against her. He groaned when she increased the pressure.

“Cynthia, you’re pushing me too far.”

She laughed with little humor. “I don’t think so, Chris.”

He stepped away from her, breaking contact. A rush of coolness swept over her skin, into her blood.

“I’m serious. You’re a beautiful woman, and you’ve had too much to drink, especially on a day you saw your ex get married.”

Frustration knotted the muscles in her belly because, once again, a man was telling her what she needed. She couldn’t win. Jesus, all she wanted was a night of anonymous sex with a man who interested her far more than was good for her. Living in the moment was something she had never done in her life, but she wanted it here. Now. And it had nothing to do with Max and everything to do with the man standing in front of her.

She settled her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Listen, the only thing I felt today was happiness for Anna and Max.”

“Even if you are happy for them, it had to hurt a little.”

The pity and understanding she heard in his voice, saw in his eyes, embarrassed her. And increased her agitation.

“Listen, I understand.” She grabbed her jacket and brushed past him, intent on finding her car keys and going to Anna’s. Her body still tingled with arousal, and her mind still spun from champagne, but she would not stay there and be humiliated. She stopped to shove her arms into the sleeves of her jacket. “Figures the one time I decide to do something like this, I get a jackass with morals. I can’t even pick men who are amoral. I have to pick a bloody saint.”

A sharp knock at the door stopped her tirade. Chris, who had followed her, answered the door without commenting. He stepped aside and allowed the waiter to bring in the tray. After the young man set it on the table in front of the window, he handed Chris the bill, which he signed. After thanking him, Chris closed the door and turned to face her.

“You were saying?”

She growled, which should have shocked her—a Myers never growled. But what shocked her more was the pleased look on Chris’s face.

“Nothing. Where are my keys?”

His gaze traveled down, and like before, she felt his attention as if his hands were on her skin. She could imagine his fingers trailing along her flesh, gliding over her breasts, his thumbs touching her nipples. Unwillingly, her body reacted. Her pulse jumped, her skin tingled where his gaze had touched, and the muscles in her stomach contracted. By the time he met her gaze, she was trying to resist the urge to wiggle to ease the pressure between her legs.

“You shouldn’t drive without having something to eat or at least some coffee. You need some time to sober up.”

She gritted her teeth, trying her best not to yell. Every man she had known in her life tried to tell her what to do. Even someone she’d planned on using for her one sexual thrill was giving her orders. Her whole being throbbed with desire so strong it surprised her that she didn’t pass out.

When she finally composed herself, her voice was low and threatening. “I. Said. Where. Are. My. Keys.”

He pursed his lips, and dammit, it made her want to kiss him, made her long to feel his mouth move over her flesh.

“In my pocket.”

She would have to be an idiot not to hear his New Orleans’ accent growing more pronounced. She could just imagine hearing that rumbled tone in the dark as he whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

Not trusting herself to get too close, she held out her hand.

Chris, damn him, shook his head. “Come get them.” Challenge threaded his tone.

She blinked. This was not a good turn of events. “Excuse me?”

He straightened away from the door but made no move to approach her. Her gaze traveled down his body to his groin. Excitement lanced through her as she saw the state of his desire.

“I said to come and get them.”

She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to do it. Her body pulsed with a strange mix of arousal and fear—strange because it was new to her. Most of the time, when confronted with a decision like this, she automatically did what was expected. For a woman brought up in the sterile environment of the Myers house, that would mean not taking him up on the challenge. But now, alone with Chris, she didn’t have to do what other people wanted. She could do what she wanted.

“It’s not a major decision, Cyn thia. Just slip your hand in my pocket and take them.” His lips curved.

He did that thing with her name again where he emphasized the first syllable. She knew part of it was seduction, part of it was challenge. And part of her thought maybe he was hoping a direct challenge would send her running away. Gathering her courage, she walked to him, stopping within inches of touching him. She tipped her head back, angling her chin in defiance.

Without breaking eye contact—and he did have the most beautiful eyes, dark brown, threaded with sparks of gold—she reached into his right pocket. When she found it empty, she narrowed her eyes. He laughed.

“I never said it was in that pocket.”

Oh, so he wants to play games. Of course, men like him loved to play games. It pleased them to control everything. She was sick of it. Sick of being the one who reacted to everything around her, instead of being the one who caused the reactions. And damned if the idea of dragging control away from him didn’t turn her on more. Still, she was irritated. Rational thought dissolved as she considered how she’d allowed men to make decisions for her all her life. Men looked at her and saw a fragile flower without a brain, a woman who couldn’t stand up for herself. For once, she refused to let him get away with it. He deserved a little punishment. She shifted her hand an inch and stroked his cock…just once. His smile faded, and every muscle tensed. Triumph flashed through her.

Casually, she pulled her hand from his pocket, grazing the top of his penis with her index finger. He sucked in a breath, and she smiled. An emotion grew inside her chest. It wasn’t lust, although it did add an edge to that. It was something else that made her feel more confident…powerful.

“So,” she said, leaning closer, taking a deep breath. God, he smelled good. His cologne held a hint of musk mixed with the unique scent of Chris himself. It rose from his flesh, enticing her. Her mouth watered just thinking of nibbling his skin. It made her head spin, her blood flame, her pussy drip. She couldn’t think of him as anything but a huge sweet she wanted to take a bite out of. “You have the keys in your other pocket?”

She stepped beside him, dragging her fingers across the front of his trousers, lightly caressing him as she passed by his cock. He leaned his head back against the door and closed his eyes. He took a few deep breaths and swallowed, hard.

“Why don’t you find out?”

Again, challenge added an edge to his voice. This time, though, she could tell he hoped she would take him up on it. There was a small space between him and the door, and she slid one leg behind him. She leaned into him, allowing her breasts to brush the back of his arm. With the slightest movement, she rubbed against him. His muscles contracted, and she smiled. He was trying his best to control himself. Wanting to push him a little more and see his reaction, she slipped her hand into his left pocket. She inched her fingers down, massaging the skin beneath the lining of the pocket.

Chris shifted restlessly. She paused until he stilled again. Once he did, she continued her exploration, ignoring the fact she knew damn well her keys weren’t in this pocket, either. As before, a sense of power enveloped her. The craving that enticed her now held her body hostage. She’d never been one to initiate. Not once, in all the time she’d been with him, had she pleasured Max. Sex was something always done to her.

This was different.

This sent another jolt of electric current racing through her blood, pulsing with desire. As she moved closer to him, she felt the dampness of her panties, her pussy clenching when she touched his cock again.

God, she couldn’t wait to see him without clothes. Through the thin fabric, she traced the length of him to the flared head. He shuddered in reaction.

“You lied, Chris. There are no keys in your pockets.” She tried to sound censorious, but yearning threaded her words, thickened her voice. With one last stroke of her finger across the top of his shaft, she pulled her hand out, then stepped away from him. Not daring to look behind her, she walked further into the room, feeling his gaze slip down her back and concentrate on her ass. The idea that she’d captured his attention almost overwhelmed her. She was positive nothing else crowded his mind but the thought of getting her into bed. She’d never had that kind of hold over any other man. Instead of being frightened by it, her desire soared.

“Cynthia.” His voice came out as a groan…a plea. She tried not to smile, but it was hard.

Slowly, she turned and found him standing where she had left him. Considering the way his pants were tented, there was no doubt about his attraction to her. But still he tried to resist, and that not only angered her, but excited her as well. Just thinking of bringing him to his knees, metaphorically, was in and of itself arousing.

“What? You want to pretend you’re not turned on?” She tsked. “Really, Chris, I felt that cock.”

His eyes widened slightly in shock. She’d sure shocked the hell out of herself.

“You’ve had too much to drink.”

So, he was going to worry about that. “I’m pretty sober right now.” Even though her head was spinning, she was sure it had to do with the situation and not the vat of champagne she’d drunk.

“I…”

He trailed off when she slipped off her jacket and tossed it on the chair beside her. She bent over to remove her shoes, knowing the cut of her blouse probably allowed him to see a good portion of her breasts. When she straightened, he was still stuck to the door, his nostrils flaring.

“Chris, come here.”

He hesitated a moment, but then approached her. Another shock of power flashed through her. No one ever did what she told them to. Even asking nicely had crappy results. He stopped within inches of her, his scent capturing her again. She’d noticed men’s cologne before, but there was something so basic, so primal about Chris’s scent. It called to her, slinked under her skin, sank into her soul.

Moving aside, she grabbed his hand and pulled him along behind her. She eased him into sitting on the edge of the bed and stepped between his legs.

He reached for her, and she shook her head. “Put your hands on the bed.” He looked to argue until she added, “You touch me now, and I won’t do what I want to.”

In a flash, he put his palms down on the bed. As she reached for the buttons on his shirt, her fingers trembled. It wasn’t fear, because for once this felt right. It might be all the alcohol, and if so, she should just become an alcoholic. She unbuttoned the shirt and pushed aside the edges to reveal an expanse of light brown skin.

Wanting to see his entire chest, she shoved his shirt off his shoulders. She let it fall around his wrists and placed her hands on his chest. The muscles she’d lusted after were better than anything she could dream up. Even feeling them beneath the wet fabric had not prepared her.

She traced the contours of his chest with her fingers. She circled his dark brown nipples, pinching them, pleased when he groaned. There was a smattering of hair—not much, but a line of it trailed down his stomach and disappeared into his pants. He was so hard she could see the outline of his cock beneath his slacks.

Licking her lips, she undid his belt and unfastened his pants. When she unzipped them, she allowed the backs of her fingers to skim along his hardened length. It twitched against her hand. She pushed aside the fabric, revealing his penis. The engorged head was a shade darker than the rest of his cock, a drop of cum wetting the tip. Reaching out with her index finger, she traced down from the top of his cock.

The only sound in the room was his indrawn breath. He moved his legs, lifting his hands slightly. The moment he did, she pulled her hand back and frowned at him. He watched her, his eyes narrowed, his breathing deep.

“Chris, I said to keep your hands on the bed.”

She could see his irritation. He clenched his jaw. Fascinated, she watched defiance mixed with excitement lighten his eyes. After a silent battle, he seemed to come to a decision and slapped his hands back down on the bed.

“That’s nice.”

He growled but didn’t say a word. Oh my, this was fun . Wanting to see how far she could push him, she stepped back a few feet, just out of reach. She grabbed the hem of her shirt and unhurriedly pulled it off. Throwing it behind her, not caring where it landed, she captured his gaze, challenging him. She wondered how long it would take before he would be tempted to dip his gaze to the rest of her body.

Reaching behind her, she unfastened her bra, shivering as the cool air drifted over her body. The room was chilly, but until that instant she had not noticed how hot her skin was. She let the bra fall to the floor. Once her breasts were bare, his gaze dropped to her naked flesh. She’d never been well endowed, but it hadn’t really bothered her before tonight. His tongue darted out, licking his lips. Her imagination didn’t have to work hard to conjure an image of his tongue gliding along her skin. Cynthia was sure he would be a genius at driving her crazy with it.

Her nipples tightened almost painfully. Oh Lord. It took every bit of control not to touch them. It would give her some relief, she knew, but she really longed to have his hands on them, his fingers caressing her.

She unzipped her skirt and let it drift to the floor. She stepped out of it, kicked it to the side and smiled at Chris. He didn’t even notice. His gaze was fastened on the tiny panties she was wearing. Those, and the pale thigh-high stockings. Both were the only indulgence she had given herself. The pink thong barely covered the important parts. Anna had convinced her to buy the lacy confection when they’d gone shopping and had insisted the thigh-high stockings were essential. Cynthia owed Anna a world of thanks. If the look in Chris’s eyes was anything to go by, every penny had been worth it.

She was only a few feet from him, but when she approached him, she walked leisurely. His fingers curled into the bedspread. Excitement lanced through her. Stepping between his legs again, she smiled down at him. He really was adorable.

“You shouldn’t be doing this, Cynthia.”

The muscle in his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth. She understood this was his last chance to clear his conscience. The saint was doing battle with the sinner inside.

She shook her head. “Chris, normally I would agree. I’m not a one-night-stand kind of girl.” He opened his mouth, and the expression on his face told her he was ready to argue with her. She stopped any further comment by lightly touching her fingers to his mouth. His breath warmed her skin. “No. I want no promises. After tonight, I doubt we’ll see each other again.”

The need to disagree glittered in his eyes, but he nodded. Something told her he would argue, given half the chance. He was a stubborn man, but for once in her life, she was going to be more stubborn.

“Now, take off your shirt.”

He complied, his muscles flexing enticingly as he slid the shirt from around his wrists. Cynthia’s heart smacked against her chest. Damn, the man was built. Max had been in good shape, built like a linebacker, with broad shoulders. Just as tall and muscled as Max, Chris resembled a swimmer. He was sinewy, his muscles leaner, more sculpted. She curled her fingers into her palms, trying not to reach out, grab him and take full advantage of that erection he sported for her.

Even just thinking it made her face burn. Again, Anna was to blame. She said exactly what she was thinking. Now she had Cynthia thinking it, but thankfully not saying it out loud. Yet.

When Chris freed his wrists, panic swelled. Old doubts plagued her as she contemplated her next move. What the hell was she doing? Ordering a man around like she was in charge. She didn’t even know if she would ever enjoy sex, let alone be able to tell a man what to do to make her happy.

“Cynthia?”

His tone gentle, his warm look told her he’d seen her alarm. In the face of her weakness, there were no derogatory accusations or condescending remarks. Instead, he offered understanding, just by saying her name.

Arousal now mixed with something more dangerous. Tenderness . It unfurled and wrapped her in warmth. She couldn’t get attached to him. He was leaving. But the show of understanding, of acceptance she’d never received from anyone, helped shake away any second thoughts she had. It might just be one night, but it was hers to enjoy.

She took his face into her hands and bent her head, giving in to the need that had been clawing at her since she’d first seen him. Lightly, she brushed her lips against his. Satisfaction poured through her as pleasure filled his eyes. Once, twice, three times, she moved her mouth against his. His eyes drifted shut as she pressed harder, his lips opening, allowing her tongue to steal inside.

Lordy. He tasted better than she’d hoped. Soon, she lost control of the kiss as he began to match her, tangling his tongue with hers. Her hands roamed to his hair, then to the back of his head, trying to somehow get close enough to devour him. Nothing in her life had been this delicious, this wonderful. Cynthia broke the kiss, pulling slightly away from him. Both of them were breathing heavily. She swallowed, gathering up her courage for her next demand. It wasn’t easy to say the words aloud. This little game had her aroused for the first time in the presence of a man, and there was no way she could stop now. She had to discover if it was real.

“Take off my panties.”