Page 30 of Love Affair in London (Once Again #12)
If he’d said it to one of the women, it would have been demeaning. But Conrad had no qualms about ribbing the guys on his team. Usually, Jared had a comeback. But tonight, he just wanted to leave. And if he had to pretend he needed the facilities, he didn’t care.
“Yeah. I need to call it a night.”
Conrad looked at him as if he’d sprouted horns. “But we’re not done.”
“Feel free to carry on without me. Especially since we’ve got a breakfast meeting before we start tomorrow.”
And he stood.
Thankfully, Conrad saw the logic in that. “You’re right. Sorry, everyone, I got carried away. Let’s reconvene in the morning.”
Jared said good night and headed for the elevator. Luckily, it had just arrived, and since the others were slower leaving the bar, he jumped in and hit the button for Piper’s floor. Swearing under his breath, he glanced at his watch.
She’d probably given up on him and gone to bed. He should have walked out an hour ago. But they’d accomplished good things during the meeting, even if it had gone on longer than necessary. He’d have to tweak his main presentation, but it would be better for it.
At Piper’s door, he leaned in, listening for the sound of the TV or anything to indicate she was still awake. But he heard nothing, and no light seeped out from under the door.
Walk away? No way.
He knocked softly and was about to knock again, louder, when the door opened.
She’d wrapped herself in the fluffy white hotel robe that set off the warmth of her skin. And lit a fire inside him. “I’m really sorry. My phone died, and I couldn’t text you.”
She propped her hand on a cocked hip and smirked at him. “Is that anything like ‘the dog ate my homework?’”
He could have gone on apologizing—maybe he should have.
Or begged for forgiveness. But he stepped forward, cupped her face, and kissed her with all the longing that had been welling up inside him since the moment he’d left her.
He delved deep, tasting her, devouring her.
When he pulled back, he whispered against her lips, “God, you taste so damn good.”
She chuckled softly, a sweet, sexy note in her tone. “All right, you’re forgiven. Now get in here and shut the door.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He tapped the door shut with his foot, then slipped his hands beneath her butt and hauled her up. She locked her legs around him as he carried her to the bed, kissing her the entire way. When he laid her down, her robe fell open, revealing her gorgeous body beneath.
“I swear,” he said, “I didn’t charge my phone last night, and it died. I would have texted you if it hadn’t.”
She pressed her palms to his cheeks. “And here I thought you’d run off with some little hottie from the mixer.”
Her words held a joking note, but he sensed a thread of truth as well. “I didn’t even notice anyone else. I was too busy trying to hide the hard-on I have for you.” He pushed his hips against her, letting her feel just what she did to him.
“Then maybe we need to do something about that.”
He slid his hand between them, stroking her, finding her wet. “First, I think we need to do something about this.”
He bent to her, not even bothering to remove his clothes, her scent sweet, her taste even sweeter.
God, how badly he needed this, a woman who lost herself to his touch, nothing planned, nothing choreographed, just sensual gratification without all the years of resentment that could build up, or the games that could ensue from a simple hook up.
There was no artifice about her. Every moan, every groan, every sigh was heartfelt.
Her body trembled, and when he filled her with two fingers, she clenched around him, an involuntary spasm of need.
He loved knowing how much he pleased her.
She was in the moment with him. Her climax built in the trembling of her legs, the depth of her cries, the grip of her body around his fingers.
Then she clamped hard, and the low wail of her pleasure was music.
If only he’d thrown off his clothing so he could pound hard inside her, the way she’d loved last night.
But he kept her riding that high for the fifty-five seconds she wanted.
Then all the tension left her body, and she lay prone on the bed, her soft laugh filling him up as she ran her hands through her hair. “Oh my God. That was so perfect.”
“ You’re perfect.” Standing between her legs, he shucked his clothing. He found the condoms they hadn’t used last night in the bedside table and rolled one on. Climbing over her, he put his hands beneath her armpits and helped her up the bed.
Without even opening her eyes, she said on a mere breath, “More. Please.”
He kissed her with her own taste on his lips and his tongue, his erection pressed to her core, ready, waiting for the right moment.
She was so wet, just off the high of the last orgasm, and he had her on the edge with only a few circles of his hips against her.
He knew her signals as if they’d been lovers for years, knew the quake of her limbs, the tenor of her cries.
Entering her with just his tip, he rode her G-spot slowly.
Her body gripped him, tried to pull him in.
But she wasn’t ready. She had to be right there, at the very moment of her nuclear blast.
He felt it before she even cried out, her whole body going rigid, her head thrown back.
And he plunged deep. She was so tight around him, squeezing him, and he almost lost it in that first second.
But she needed this hard, fast pounding that made her climax go on and on.
He couldn’t let himself release until he’d pushed her to the limit.
Christ. Had a woman ever come this hard for this long ever in the history of the world? Had a woman ever come like this for him ? He wanted to believe it was their connection.
Arching his neck, he bared his teeth to hold off his orgasm, the effort almost herculean.
But as her inner muscles clenched tight around him, he gave her everything he had, his growl of pleasure and her cries melding in the night.
For one long, glorious moment, he forgot his name, his present, his past. There was only this.
There was only her.