Play of Passion
Page 43

Leaving, her foot, she thought. He’d had no intention whatsoever of doing that.
For some reason, his wickedness made her own wolf shake its head and grin. “Just for that,” she said, nipping at his chin, able to feel the eager thrust of his erection against her abdomen, “I’m going to make you finish treating me to dinner.” Her thighs tightened with anticipation, her skin shimmering with a touch-hunger only Drew could satisfy.
Taking her lips in a sweet, hot kiss, he slid his hand to her bottom, squeezed. “You’re on, Lieutenant.”
The starters and the mains passed by relatively smoothly—if Indigo disregarded the fact that Drew was eating her up with his eyes—but then they got to dessert. “Oh,” she all but purred as she saw what he’d ordered.
A miniature triple-chocolate baked cheesecake with lime sorbet on the side.
When he put the plate in front of himself and crooked a finger, her wolf bared its teeth but decided to play along . . . and torture him a little. Walking over, she put one hand on the back of his neck and slid her fingers into his hair as she settled herself on his lap. “Oh, my,” she murmured, flicking her tongue over her lower lip, “what is that I feel beneath me?”
Drew’s laugh was pained. “Witch.” Dipping the spoon into the sorbet, he brought it to her lips.
Holding her. Claiming her.
As the cool silver touched her lips, her eyes locked with his . . . and all laughter leached away. He waited, patient. “I can see your wolf,” he said to her.
Her wolf saw him, too. And it decided that this male who confused, puzzled, amused, delighted, and pleasured them in equal measures was a worthy opponent. Parting her lips, she let him slip the spoon inside. “Mmm.” It was a throaty sound of bliss as she savored the crisp taste of lime, tart and sweet at the same time.
Drew’s hand spread on her lower back as he returned to scoop up a piece of cheesecake. When he put it to her lips this time, she opened without hesitation, holding his gaze the entire time, knowing her own had gone wolf on him. Then the chocolate flavors burst to life on her tongue and she decided that Drew Kincaid had earned the mind-blowing sex she was going to give him tonight.
Leaning down, she shared the taste of the cheesecake with him in the most intimate of ways. “Good, isn’t it?” She stroked her tongue lazily against his as his hand clenched on her hip.
The spoon clattered onto the plate, and Drew’s hand was suddenly between her thighs, cupping her with shocking, raw intimacy. “Drew.”
He shuddered. “You’re so wet, so ready.” The sound of something tearing, and then black lace was fluttering to the floor. “Straddle me.”
“I—we can’t—what if—”
He was already maneuvering her body into position, his hands pushing up her dress to the edge of her butt. “No one will come in. I initiated the lock after the meal was delivered.”
Indigo shivered as he moved his hands up to cup her buttocks. “We can’t have sex in a restaurant.” She was scandalized at the idea.
“Take me out, Indy.” Kisses on her neck, hot, passionate, earthy.
She could no more stop her hands from smoothing down his clothed chest to the buckle of his belt than she could stop her body from rubbing sensuously against his. Managing to undo the belt in spite of her suddenly clumsy fingers, she unbuttoned the top button of his pants before giving in to temptation and placing fingers over him. He sucked in a breath and seemed to freeze against her. “Zipper, Indy.” The hoarse need in his voice further incited her own hunger as she lowered the zipper, her fingers brushing against the warm, stiff ridge of his arousal.
“What do you have against underwear?” Not that she was complaining. Not when he was so hard and beautiful in her hand. Thick and silky and pulsing with lust. For her. Only for her. Possessiveness made her stroke him slow and easy, taking her time, placing her mark.
He bit her nipple through the dress—a short, sharp warning. “Underwear is overrated.” In her hands, he pulsed hotter, and suddenly she couldn’t wait any longer.
Changing position a fraction, she brought them into perfect sync. Feeling him push into her was . . . Shuddering, she clenched her hands in his hair and let him ease her down on that beautiful cock. “Mine.” She nipped his ear. “Touch any other woman and I’ll cut it off.”
He tapped her lightly on the bottom. “Touch any other man and I’ll tie you naked to the bed and keep you that way until you realize the error of your ways.”
She smiled against his mouth. “Just so we’re clear.”
“Crystal.” And then he was sliding hilt-deep into her, and she couldn’t contain her cry of delight.
Drew caught it with his mouth, moving up his hands to pull down the top of her dress until her breasts popped free of their confines. Murmuring rough, sexual words of appreciation and pleasure, he licked and kissed and petted as he let her set the pace. Bracing herself with her feet on the rungs of his chair, her hands on his jacket-covered shoulders, she went slow and easy . . . for the first few strokes. But it had been too long. She’d missed him too much.
So when he dropped his hands back down to her hips and urged her to pick up the pace, she made no argument. Instead, she fused her mouth with his as he set a far more punishing rhythm, rocking them both to an orgasm that had been days in the making.
“I cannot believe you talked me into sex in a public place,” Indigo said later that night as they strolled down the corridor to the hotel room they’d decided to take in the city. They needed to spend some time alone, apart from everyone. Things had changed, and they both needed time to accept and assess.
Drew stroked his hand over her bottom in that possessive way of his as he opened the door and ushered her inside. “As I keep telling you, there are advantages to dating a younger man.”
She felt her lips twitch. “I’m beginning to see that.” It was a lighthearted comment, but there was an element of truth in it. Drew’s sexuality was wild, open, exuberant. Of course, she thought, most of that was simply who he was. Age made little difference. He’d probably be ambushing her with kisses well into his eighth decade.
Wasn’t that a thought . . . that they might make it, be together that long.
About to kick off her heels now that they were in the privacy of the room, she was halted by Drew’s hands on her hips. “Keep them on?” It was a husky request, his body strong and hard behind hers.
Reaching back with her arms, she wrapped them around his neck. “The zipper is hidden along the side.”
Andrew stroked his hand down Indigo’s side, curving his fingers over her breast and smoothing them over her hip before stroking back up to find the cleverly hidden tag. One pull and the black material began to part in a sensuous whisper. She was naked beneath the dress, the remains of her panties stuffed in one of his pockets.
His wolf grinned as it remembered the way she’d glared at him when he’d teased her by suggesting they leave it behind to shock the waiter. “I like this dress,” he murmured. The zipper was almost to her hip now and the dress was all but falling off her body.
“That’s because it allows you easy access.” Giving a little shimmer that was unalterably feminine, she dropped her arms from around his neck as the dress fell off her body. Stepping out of it, she nudged it delicately to the side.
He didn’t say anything—because his brain seemed to have deserted him. Still wearing those spiked heels, and unashamedly naked otherwise, she was a fantasy come to life, strong and sexy and so pettable that he couldn’t keep his hands from roaming. When she shivered and leaned back into him, his wolf growled with pride. Mine, he thought, she’s mine.
Sliding his hands up her rib cage to cup her breasts, he teased her nipples before caressing her with a slightly rougher touch. She made a low, throaty sound of pleasure but pulled away. As he watched, she walked to the bed and climbed on to lie on her front facing him. Bracing herself up on her elbows, she bent her knees up and crossed her ankles, those sexy heels in the air. “Strip.” It was a sensual order.
But more, Andrew realized with a leap of joy in his soul, it was an invitation to play. And the lieutenant rarely initiated their play.
“Your wish. My command.” Bowing with a theatrical flourish, he shrugged off his jacket and hung it carefully on a chair before moving his fingers to the bow tie at his throat. The strip of black fabric took bare seconds to slip out from around his neck, but he spent several more placing it over the jacket with care.
Only then did he move his fingers to his cuff links, aware of Indigo watching his every move, the perfume of her desire scenting the air in a rich musk that made his cock throb. Cuff links in hand, he walked to place them on the dresser, then returned to stand in front of her and began to unbutton his shirt. Halfway down, he said, “Shoes first, don’t you think?”
Her nod was slow, her eyes on the strip of skin revealed by the open sides of his shirt. Masculine pride shot warmth through every part of him as he got rid of his shoes and socks.
“Faster,” she commanded, every inch the imperious female, when he rose back to his full height.
He obeyed, tugging his shirt out from his pants and beginning to undo the remaining buttons even as he used his gaze to caress the lush curves of her breasts, the sleek length of her legs, the sexy dip of her spine.
“An . . . drew . . .” Indigo drawled out his name and only then did he realize he’d finished with the buttons.
Too delighted in the moment to care how much of his emotions he was exposing, he shrugged off the shirt and threw it carelessly on the chair. “Shouldn’t there be some whipped cream and oil at this point?”
Bright indigo-colored eyes met his. “I’ll make a note of that for next time.” The words were a sultry promise. “You planning to take off your pants anytime soon?”
“Depends,” Andrew said, stepping closer to the bed as he began to undo his belt. “Are you planning to use and abuse my poor body like you did at the restaurant?”