Home > His High-Stakes Holiday Seduction (The Hightower Affairs #3)(13)

His High-Stakes Holiday Seduction (The Hightower Affairs #3)(13)
Author: Emilie Rose

Her attempt at a smile wobbled and failed miserably. She took a step toward him, and when he didn’t retreat, another. “You may be used to passion so overwhelming it makes it impossible to think, but I’m not. This chemistry we share…this connection…wasn’t there last year, and I would like to explore it.”

Still sensing resistance on his part, she continued, “Yes, I admit I’m scared and worried that like before we won’t…That our…efforts won’t go well. But it’s a chance I’m willing to take. If you are.”

When he remained silent, she wrapped her arms around her torso and glanced toward the window. “I want to know—No, I need to know if the problem was yours, ours…or just me.”

Once more Paige’s openness and vulnerability hit Trent like jet wash, tossing him into a turbulent tailspin of tangled emotions.

First, a g-force of desire so strong it nearly knocked him to his knees hit him when he considered sinking into her lush body. His core muscles tightened against it.

Second, a fresh gust of curiosity blindsided him. What in the hell had happened? The frustrating need to know versus the repelling distaste of being a voyeur to his brother’s intimate life battled within him. Unlike Brent, Trent had never been one to share the personal details of his sex life.

Third, anger toward his brother. Damn Brent for whatever it was he’d done to cause the pain and self-doubt in Paige’s eyes and the slight quiver in her voice.

Whatever problem Paige and Brent might have had couldn’t have been her fault. She was so open and honest that it would be impossible for any man who listened to fail to satisfy her. She seemed like the type of woman to vocalize her needs—a trait Trent found extremely sexy.

The need to comfort her propelled him forward against his better judgment. He knew touching her could erode what was left of his resolve to resist her, and yet his hand lifted to cup her cheek almost of its own volition. She leaned into his palm, her soft skin warming his as she nuzzled against him.

“Paige, you are beautiful, desirable and so damn sexy my jaw aches from biting back the need to taste you.”

She gasped. The hope and hunger on her face hit him with a one-two punch. “What’s stopping you?”

His resistance wavered. She claimed all she wanted was a brief affair. What would it hurt if they did what she believed they’d done already—only this time without whatever disappointment she’d suffered? He could pleasure her until she begged him to stop and prove to her that she wasn’t at fault for whatever had gone wrong with Brent.

Trent’s conscience urged him to back away from temptation. But how could giving her what she wanted be wrong? And how would a brief, no-strings affair be any different than what he practiced at home?

Because you never mix business with pleasure, and you never date anyone within the industry.

But by blowing off networking to spend time with Paige, he’d already broken both rules. She might not work in commercial aviation, but the annual convention had been held at the Lagoon for the past four years and was scheduled to be here for at least three more.

This is business. Yours. HAMC’s. Brent’s. Specifically, saving all three by avoiding a nasty and costly blowup.

A brief liaison would hurt nothing. If anything, it would leave Paige with a favorable impression of Trent and HAMC instead of the negative one she currently held.

Decision made, he covered her mouth with his. Her satiny lips parted to receive him, and her tongue met his at the entrance of her mouth, tangling and wrangling for supremacy the way she did with her words.

She tasted good. Damn good. He tried to hold back, to coax her slowly and prolong the foreplay, but her enthusiastic response unleashed a carnal hunger in him that was hard to control. He banded his arms around her, yanking her close. The heat of her body, the cushion of her br**sts and the slick wetness of her mouth made him hot, heavy and hard in seconds.

Her arms rose, surrounding his shoulders, and her sigh filled his lungs as she sank against him, then her nails lightly raked his scalp, ripping through his restraint like a propeller slicing through damp air. He gave up the fight and stabbed his fingers into her silky hair. Tilting her head back, he deepened the kiss.

She shifted and her pelvis brushed his, sending a surge of animalistic need through him. He swept his hands over her shoulders to her waist, then he cupped her bottom. She needed to feel how badly he ached for her. He wanted to lay her down on the floor and drive into her, but he settled for grinding against her and pushing himself to the edge of control.

The stretchy fabric of her pants invited his hands to plunge beneath the waistband. His fingertips found the smooth material of her bikini panties then skin. Warm, velvety skin. But feeling her wasn’t enough. He wanted to see her—every luscious curve. He tortured himself by delaying, stroking her bottom, her waist and the undersides of her br**sts. Her hum of pleasure filled his mouth and his ears.

He skimmed his thumbs over her bra, finding hard n**ples pressing against the lacy cups. He circled the crests until she jerked her mouth free and let her head fall back to catch her breath. Bending, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her lemony fragrance and nuzzling her smooth skin. Her pulse fluttered wildly beneath his lips.

She raked her nails through his hair and down his back. “That feels good.”

Her ragged words made his heart pound harder. He had to see her, to touch her, to taste her. He fisted his hands in her top and tugged it over her head. A black bra cupped her full, pale br**sts. He bent to bury his face in her cl**vage. Her fragrance, headier here in the shadowy warmth, filled his nose. He traced the lacy bra’s border with his lips, then his tongue as he flicked open the front clasp and allowed the soft globes to spill into his palms. She bit her lip as he devoured her with his eyes and thumbed the tips, then she shrugged and her bra fell to the floor.

Paige had great br**sts. Her n**ples were tight, begging for his mouth. He didn’t delay taking what he wanted and rolling first one tight bud, then the other around on his tongue. Her lashes descended and her lips parted. Clinging to his shoulders, she leaned against the arm he hooked around her waist to give him better access and cradled his cheeks to guide him. He didn’t need her hands to point him in the right direction. He took his cues from each whimper, gasp and shudder to arouse her as much as she had him.

Her fingers painted a trail of goose bumps down his neck then his sides before hooking in his belt. Hunger clawed at him, once again urging him to rush. But tonight wasn’t about what he needed. Tonight was about Paige. He’d get his pleasure, but only after she’d had hers.

Impatient to see and taste the rest of her, he swept her into his arms and headed for the bedroom. He planted a hard kiss on her mouth then set her down beside the bed.

With more speed than finesse, he stripped her pants and panties down her legs. Just below her knees he encountered the tops of her leather boots. He nudged her backward until she sat on the turndown sheets, then eased her loose-legged pants over her boots. From his kneeling position beside the mattress, he allowed himself a leisurely visual feast.

Her legs, nak*d except for black leather high-heeled boots, made his mouth water. A dense triangle of dark blond, glistening curls marked his next target. That she was already wet for him amped up his sense of urgency.

Unlike the thin model types he usually dated, Paige had rounded hips, a narrow waist and full br**sts. When his gaze reached her flushed face, he caught her searching his eyes with a guarded expression.

“Paige, you are so damned beautiful I ache for you. Feel how much I want you.” He straightened, captured her hand and stroked her palm up and down his erection. Hunger hammered him. He wanted—needed—her hands on his skin. But if she touched him there was no guarantee he could keep this slow. He sucked a breath through clenched teeth and quickly knelt again to tackle the zipper of one boot. He removed it and tossed it aside then dealt with the other.

Her fingertips stroked across his shoulders and up the side of his neck to trace his ears. A shudder racked him. To hell with slow and easy. Bolting back to his feet he ripped his sweater and T-shirt over his head and reached for his belt.

“Let me help.” Paige rose. But she didn’t reach for his buckle. Instead her hands flattened over his pecs and glided downward at a snail’s pace. He gritted his teeth against the hedonistic agony as she neared his abdomen then finally, finally his belt. Each shift of her trembling fingers dipping behind his buckle made his heart and groin pound and his temperature rise.

Paige released the leather and unfastened his pants. She ran her fingers across the bulge of the swollen flesh tenting his briefs, and he bucked involuntarily into her hand. She wrapped her hand around him, squeezing with just enough pressure to milk a groan from him. The look she sent him from under her lashes nearly undid him.

He clamped down on the raw bite of passion, and shoved his pants and briefs past his hips. She reached for him again, but he arched out of the way.

Her smile faded. She stood before him, hands clasped in front of those damp, enticing curls, the temptress slowly transforming into lip-biting shyness.

Another dot of anger blipped on his radar. What in the hell had happened to make her this unsure of her allure?

Whatever it was, he’d wipe it from her mind before the night ended. He grasped her shoulders and gently pulled her forward until her bare skin seared his. He sluiced his hands down her back and crushed her tightly against him as he captured her mouth. Her belly cradled his hard-on, making him want to rut like a damned stallion against her. He fought the urge.

Her touch fluttered over him, her nails tracing butterfly-soft trails over his shoulders, his back, his butt. A shudder racked him. He peeled his mouth away and buried his face in her neck, back to the soft, smooth spot he’d discovered earlier.

She curled her hand around him again and stroked. “You’re very hard.”

“Not for long if you keep that up.”

Her hand stilled and fell away. “Don’t you like it when I touch you?”

“Hell, yes. Too much. Paige, if you keep that up my plan to make you beg for mercy is going to be moot.”

Surprise widened her eyes then a slow grin spread her delectable mouth. The mischief in that smile spurred him into kicking off his shoes—one thumped the wall—tearing off his socks and shedding the remainder of his clothing in record time.

The wildly beating pulse in her neck quivered against his lips, then he outlined her ear with his tongue, nipped her lobe and eased back. He incrementally bent his knees, kissing, nipping, licking a path down her front, over her collarbones, her br**sts, her n**ples, her navel.

As he approached her bikini line her fingers fisted in his hair. “Trent, wait. That’s not necessary. I’m already…um…ready.”

He clasped her bottom, holding her captive when she tried to squirm away. “Tasting you is very necessary. The question is, can you come standing up?”

Her cheeks turned crimson. Her fingers clutched the edge of the mattress, then the spark of challenge entered his eyes. “I—I don’t know. But I’m willing to find out.”

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