Nothing But Trouble

FIFTEEN

Chelsea glanced over Jules’s shoulder as the band sang a decent version of “Harder to Breathe.” She felt the weight of his hand on her waist and the warmth of his palm against hers. She liked Jules. He was a good-looking guy with an impressive body, but it was another good-looking guy with an impressive body she looked for in the dark ballroom. A few moments ago, she’d spotted Mark at the bar. He wasn’t there now.

“John Kowalsky was inducted into the Hall of Fame a few years back,” Jules told her. “He was one of those guys, like Bressler and Savage, who dominated with size but whose slap shot was clocked at over a hundred miles an hour.”

“Where’s he?”

“I just told you. We’re you listening?”

No. “Sorry. The music’s loud.”

“He’s the big guy dancing with the tall brunette to your left. This room is filled with hockey legends.”

Jules sounded really excited, like he was about ready to bust an important vessel. Like he just might start spouting statistics. “So, are you ever going to ask my sister out on a real date?” she asked before he made her endure that particular snorefest.

Jules paused in mid-step. “We argue too much.”

“That’s because you guys are sexually frustrated.” Chelsea stopped and looked up into his green eyes. “You’re like cats yowling and scratching at each other. For God’s sake, go find my sister and just do it already.” Jules opened his mouth to say something and closed it. The music stopped, and Chelsea moved to one of the round tables and grabbed her purse. She headed out into the foyer and glanced around for the restroom sign. She spotted Mark standing in a group of men and several women a few feet away. His head was bent to one side while he listened intently to Faith Duffy. He’d brushed back one side of his charcoal suit jacket and shoved a hand into the front pocket of his wool pants. As if sensing her presence across the foyer, he lifted his gaze and looked at Chelsea over the woman’s shoulder. His brown eyes stared into hers, then lowered to her mouth. He smiled and said something to the owner of the team, but his gaze slid down Chelsea’s throat to her chest. A hot shiver ran down her spine, and her footsteps slowed. She forced herself to keep walking. One foot in front of the other, moving farther and farther away. Down the long foyer until she was inside the cool bathroom stall. Of all the available men on the planet, why did she have to feel something for the one man off limits to her?

She used the bathroom, then set her purse on the counter next to the sink while she washed her hands. Of all the men on the planet, why did her body have to respond to him? She didn’t fool herself that what she felt was love. She didn’t love him any more than he loved her. What they had between them was nothing more than lust. The intense kind that burned hot and furious but ultimately burned out quickly.

She dried her hands and opened her purse. A tube of pink lipstick lay in the silky bottom and she bushed it across her mouth. She didn’t need that kind of complication in her life. She knew what she wanted. She had a plan, and he was the one person who could ruin it all. Best to take a page from his book and avoid him. Which of course wasn’t going to be possible. Especially when he stood in the hall across from the bathroom, leaning his back against the fire es-cape door. The door to the bathroom swung shut behind her, and his intense gaze reached across the distance and pinned her feet to the floor.

“Are you looking for the men’s restroom?”

He shook his head. “I’m looking for you.”

“Oh. Do you need something?”

His gaze lowered to her throat. “Yeh.”

A tight little ball of nerves tickled her stomach, and she forced herself to walk toward him. “What?”

He blinked and looked back up into her face. Instead of answering, he asked, “Are you having a good time dancing with the guys?”

“They’re nice.” She’d have a better time with him. “I saw you talking to Ty Savage. Did you mean what you said about being grateful to him?”

“Maybe. He’s not too bad a guy.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “For an asshole.”

Her nervous laugh came out sounding a little breathy. “Did you see the ring he gave Faith Duffy?”

“Hard to miss that ring. It’s like he thought that if he bought it big enough, she’d have to say yes.”

“It’d be hard to say no to a ring like that.”

“A big ring doesn’t mean you’ll stay married.” He leaned his head back against the door and gazed at her from beneath lowered lids. “Believe me. I know.”

He looked tired, his face a little drawn “Should I call the car service to come and pick you up?”

“No.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“Stop. I’m not helpless.”

“I know.” She opened her purse and pulled out her cell. “But if-”

“I drove.”

She looked up at him. “What?”

He raised one shoulder. “I drove.”

“Your car?”

“What else?”

She dropped the phone back into her bag. “If you couldn’t get a service to pick you up, you should have called me.”

“Chelsea…” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “I’ve been driving for a month now.”

“But…” She’d taken him to a doctor’s appointment the afternoon before. “But I drove you yesterday.”

“I know.” He dropped his arms to his sides.

“I don’t understand.” Either she was crazy or he was. She chose to believe the latter. “You hate my driving.”

“True, but I love the way your skirts slide up your thighs when you drive.” He reached for her hand and pulled her close. “What are you wearing under your dress?”

Maybe it was her, because she answered, “Nothing,” and she knew better. Knew exactly that it would make his gaze all hot and intense as he stared down at her.

It did too. “Don’t fuck with me.”

“I’m not. I put on a thong but I could see the strap on my hip. So I had to take it off and go commando.”

With his free hand, he opened the door behind him and pulled her into the stairwell.

“Mark!”

“Do you really think that you can tell me something like that, and I’ll let you go off with Sam?” He backed her against the door and put his hands on both sides of her head. “That’s not going to happen.”

Her hands grasped his lapels and she looked up into his face. “I wasn’t going to go anywhere with Sam or anyone.”

“That’s right.” He lowered one hand and slid the strap of her dress down her arm. “You’re coming with me.”

Her palms slipped beneath his jacket and slid up his chest. “To do what?”

“Have sex. All night.”

She liked to have sex all night. “You know that’s a really bad idea. I work for you.”

He shook his head and ran his hand up her arm to the side of her face. “No, you don’t. I don’t pay you.”

“I get paid to work for you.”

“And it’s Saturday. You’re not at work.”

In her lust-filled head, that was good enough logic for her, and she rose on-to the balls of her feet and kissed the side of his neck. “So, technically I’m not getting paid to do this.”

A deep groan vibrated his throat as he slid a hand to the small of her back and lower to palm her behind. She sucked his warm, salty skin into her mouth and pulled the knot from his tie until the ends hung down both sides of his chest. “Or this.” Her fingers worked the buttons at his neck until the top three lay open and exposed the hollow of his throat. “I want you, Mark Bressler.” She ran her tongue up his neck. “I want to kiss you all over.”

His fingers tangled in her hair, and he brought his mouth down onto hers. “Not until I kiss you first,” he said through a hot breath. He kissed her hard and spread hot, aching passion across her flesh. It tightened her breasts and warmed her thighs. Instantly, the kiss turned into a ferocious feeding frenzy of need and greed and dominance. His hands were everywhere at once, pushing at the top of her dress until her breasts spilled out and her nipples grazed the front of his shirt. She felt every fibrous thread against the sensitive tips. One arm wrapped around her back, holding her up as she pressed into him. Into his hard chest and harder penis. She ground against him, feeling the length of his erection from her pelvis to her belly.

Mark shoved his warm hand beneath her dress and cupped her between her thighs. Heat spread to the core of her body, and her knees buckled. His arm tightened around her to keep her from falling. “You’re wet.”

“You’re hard.”

He rested his forehead against hers. “Let’s do something about it.”

“Here?”

He shook his head and took his hand from between her legs. “Meet me out front in five minutes.”

She licked the corners of her mouth. “Where are we going?” Not that it mattered. She’d follow him anywhere he chose to take her.

“Home. My house.”

She lowered her arms and shoved her skirt down her thighs. She supposed that made better sense than sex in a stairwell. “I came with my sister.”

“You’re leaving with me.”

She bit her lip as she pulled her dress up over her breasts. “How do I look?”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “Turned on. Like you were about to get laid.”

She smoothed her hair. “Better?”

“No.” He tugged at the top of her dress, then put his hands on her breasts and adjusted her cleavage. He leaned back and looked at her. “You can’t go out there like that.”

She looked down at her nipples making two very obvious points in the front of her dress. She placed her palms over each and pressed inward.

Mark tugged the tie from around his neck and shoved it into his jacket pocket. “That’s not going to help.” He took off the jacket and hung it across her shoulders. “Five minutes.” He grabbed the lapels and pulled them over her chest. “If you’re not out front in five minutes, I’ll come back to get you.”

“I’ll be there.”

Chelsea tossed Mark’s jacket on the island in the kitchen while he dug in a drawer and took out a box of condoms. She tugged the ends of his shirt from his wool trousers, and by the time they made it the short distance to the elevator, her shoes were off and his shirt lay on the floor. On the way up to the second floor, she unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops. His socks and shoes littered the hall to his bedroom, and he kissed her while he walked backward to the couch. He unzipped the back of her dress as she unzipped his pants. Their clothes hit the floor, and she slid one palm across his hard chest while her other hand dove beneath the elastic of his boxer briefs. Except for his underwear they were both naked. They stood so close, the tips of her breasts touched the hair on his chest.

Mark sucked in a breath and pulled back to look at her as she wrapped her palm around his hot, huge penis. A moment of concern lowered her brows as she rubbed her thumb along the bulging veins. It was one thing to wonder what it would be like to have sex with a man hung like a porn star. It was another to actually do it.

He tossed the box of condoms on the sofa, then he wrapped his hand around hers and moved it up and down his thick shaft. “You look worried.”

“I am.”

“I’ll make it good.”

She believed him and shoved his underwear down his legs. She knelt in front of him, licked the bead of clear liquid, and slid her tongue around the hot, bulbous head.

He groaned, and she looked up into his lust-heavy eyes. “Do you like that?”

“Yes.”

“Want more?”

“God yes.” She smiled and took as much of him as possible into her mouth. His head fell back and he tangled his fingers in her hair. She sucked him hard, cupping his testicles and caressing the sensitive vein beneath the head of his penis with her tongue. Within a few short moments, his semen flowed hot into her mouth and hit the back of her throat. She stayed with him until it was over. Until he reached for her and lifted her to her feet.

“Thank you,” he said, and pulled her naked against his chest. He kissed her and held her against him as he sat with her on the couch. Her knees rested beside his thighs and she sat naked in his lap. He might have just found release, but she was still totally turned on and her hands slid over his shoulders and arms and neck. A horrifying thought entered her head, and she pulled back to look at him.

“Can you get it up again?”

He laughed. “Is that a question or a demand?”

“Both.”

“Yeh. I think I can manage it.” He slid his hands to her waist. “Stand up on the couch and straddle my face,” he instructed.

“What?”

“It’s my turn.” His grasp tightened and he helped her to her feet. She sank a little into the leather. “Like that.” He looked up at her as he leaned forward and kissed the inside of her thigh. “Put your foot on my shoulder.” She did and he said, “I’ve been dreaming about doing this to you for weeks.” He parted her flesh with his free hand and took her into his hot mouth.

“Ooh, Mark,” she moaned. His tongue slid across her slick flesh and he gave her the most incredible oral sex of her life. He knew exactly what he was doing. He stayed at it, combining teasing, light touches and kisses like he was sucking the juice from a ripe peach. He kept at it until a wave of hot orgasm shook her body. She cried out, “Oh God, Mark.” Not exactly a scream; then a deep, satisfied moan started at her toes and worked its way through her body. When it was through, her limbs felt weak, and she slowly slid downward. Mark’s mouth slipped across her abdomen and stomach. He kissed her breasts and her cleavage. She slid to her knees, and with his hands free, he tore open the condom and rolled it down his long shaft. Hard again, he positioned himself between her thighs. She looked into his face as she sat. The first blunt stab widened her eyes. “I don’t know if this is going to work.”

He sucked in a deep breath. “Don’t leave me.” His hot gaze stared out at her from beneath his lowered lids. “Don’t leave me now.”

She lowered herself, sliding down. “I won’t leave you.” With each second, his gaze got even hotter.

“You’re really tight.”

“You’re really big.” Inch by inch, she continued, feeling stretched and completely impaled. He put his hands on her thighs and gently pushed her downward. She didn’t feel pain, but she wasn’t exactly comfortable.

He cupped her bottom in his palms. “You’re so beautiful to me.”

When he looked at her, his eyes all warm and velvet, she felt beautiful. He’d just given her one of the best orgasms of her life, and her heart squeezed in her chest. “Thank you.”

“You ready?”

She nodded, and he lifted her up his long, thick shaft. It was a pity he had to wear a condom because she would have loved to feel hot flesh on hot flesh. Thick veins against slick vaginal walls. The bulbous head of his penis rubbed her G-spot and once again reawakened her passion. Slowly she moved up and down with him, finding a perfect rhythm. A little higher and a little faster with each stroke. She grabbed on to his shoulders and matched his rhythm, riding him hard. She tilted her head back and never wanted it to end, even as she raced to completion.

“Oh my God!” She rode him with mindless pleasure and complete abandon. On and on the pleasure built. She might have called his name. She wasn’t sure as she rode up and up. Higher and hotter until she hit a second peak more intense than the first. Scalding heat constricted her inner muscles and spread fire outward across her body. Every cell caught fire, and she opened her mouth and silently screamed as he continued to pump into her. Again and again until his grasp on her behind tightened and he stilled. The muscles in his arms and chest turned to stone. The breath whooshed from his lungs and he swore long and loud. The male equivalent of a scream.

Chelsea smiled.

“Did I hurt you?”

“I’m okay.” She did feel a bit raw, but so content she didn’t care. “Are you okay?”

Pure male cockiness turned up the corners of his mouth. “Yeh. Your orgasm lasted a long time.”

“Were you worried you couldn’t outlast me?”

“No. I can outlast you.” He shook his head and slid his hands up her thighs to her waist.

She buried her face in his warm neck. “Can we do that some more?”

He ran his hands up her bare back. “Honey, we’re going to do that all night long.”

And they did. Three more times before Chelsea slipped from his bed and grabbed her dress from the floor. The sun rose through the slats in the blinds as she stepped into her dress. They’d drifted to sleep sometime around four. Sometime after Mark had made a hearty meal of frozen pizza and ice cream.

Chelsea reached for the zipper on the back of her dress and moved toward the door. She cast one last glance at the sleeping man tangled up in white sheets before she walked into the hall.

There had been several times in her life when she’d suffered the walk of shame sex. When the impulses of the night before felt shameful in the harsh light of morning. When regret felt like a fifty-pound lump in her stomach.

Funny she didn’t feel that way with Mark. She didn’t feel ashamed. She should. Having sex with him wasn’t right. Bad, and she probably would feel shame and regret. Later.

But right now…right now she just felt calm. Relaxed. Happy and totally wrung out.