All Night Woman: A Contemporary Romance (7 page)

Liz stared at him as if he had suddenly grown horns, then shook her head.  “Look, Miles, I appreciate the effort, I really do.  But you can consider your good deed done.  I’ll tell Adam and Holly how nice you were, and you can - ”

She didn’t get to finish.  Miles didn’t let her.  He’d heard enough.  In one smooth motion he cupped her face in his hands and took complete and total possession of her smart little mouth.  Some nagging little voice in the back of his mind told him that kissing her like this was wrong, but with the sweet taste of her on his lips making him crave more, he told it to shut the fuck up.

* * *

T
hank God she’d taken a quick shower and brushed her teeth the moment she’d gotten home, Liz thought vaguely as Miles’ tongue danced around her mouth like some kind of
Dancing With the Stars
champion.  A heady mix of coffee and chocolate with overtones of what must have been a mint made her feel weak and dizzy all at once.

“Now do you think I’m just being nice?” he said when he finally released her.

Nice?  There was absolutely nothing nice about the way he kissed her.  It had been hungry.  Needy.  Commanding.  Possessive. 

But definitely not
nice
.

Spectacular was a far more accurate adjective to describe what he’d just done.  Liz glanced up at the clock on the wall.  Twelve fifty-three.  Technically, her birthday was already over.

“Why would you do that?” she asked, dazed.

He sighed.  Without releasing her, he rested his forehead upon hers.  “Must you question everything?”

“When it makes no sense whatsoever, yes.”

He took the hand with which she was currently clutching his bicep and brought it down to the substantial bulge pushing against the zipper of his slacks.  “How about this?  Does this make sense to you?”

Her hand cupped that stiff, solid part of him, reflexively testing the thickness and finding it to be almost as unbelievable as everything else that had happened in the last couple of minutes.  Without conscious thought, she ran it up and down his length, her sense of touch translating and transmitting the approximate dimensions to another, highly interested area.  An area that was currently experiencing a rush of heat and moisture that made a joke of the lusty thoughts she’d had for the male review dancers.

“Not really,” she rasped.  It didn’t make any sense at all.

“Come on, birthday girl,” he crooned against her ear, those firm male lips brushing along the sensitive outer shell.  “Tell me what you wished for.”

She made a sound that came out something like a moan.

“I’ll just have to guess, then.”

His mouth was on hers again, so even if she wanted to blurt out the truth, she couldn’t have.  He must have some kind of psychic powers, though, because he was doing a pretty good job of figuring it out.

As his lips plundered her mouth, his hands did a bit of their own exploring.  They skillfully mapped out all of her curves and dips with precision, roaming up and down, pausing only briefly here and there to squeeze, plump, and tweak.

It was wonderful, but not nearly enough.  After several minutes of arching and shifting, she finally took a page out of his book, capturing his hand and directing it exactly where she needed it most.

He groaned as his fingers found her through her lounge pants, which she was pretty sure were already damp.  With one swift move, he lifted her onto the counter and those pants were dangling from one ankle.

“Mmmm,” he hummed in smug approval as he slipped beneath the white silk and lace.  Long, powerful fingers stroked back and forth with the perfect amount of pressure before circling and dipping inside.  A few expert curls in exactly the right spot had her head falling back and her hands clutching at his powerful shoulders. 

It felt good, so very good.  Her climax was coming on hard and fast, so fast she hadn’t even had time to be remotely embarrassed.  Miles flicked his thumb and then pressed down and her orgasm rolled over her like a freight train.

Before her eyes rolled completely back into her head, she caught the clock over her sink, mentally noting the time:  twelve fifty-six
. 

Three minutes.

* * *

S
he was so hot, and right now she was putty in his hands.  Had any woman ever been so responsive from just a finger or two?  He’d like to think that he was just that good, but not even he was that full of himself.  Which meant that she must have really needed this. 

“Looks like I’m one for one,” he crooned as his hand continued to work, bringing her down gently.  “What else did you wish for, birthday girl?”

If she answered, he didn’t hear it.  His attention was focused elsewhere.

Miles pulled one of the stools over and sat back, coaxing her knees apart and easing himself between her legs.

“Beautiful,” he said, breathing in her heady, sweet scent.  He pressed forward, planting a whisper-soft kiss at the very heart of her desire.  Bare, just the way he liked it. 

Apparently she liked that too, because her calves were suddenly draped over his shoulders, her ankles crossed behind his neck and she was drawing him in deeper. 

Oh, yeah.  He smiled against her, parting his lips and giving her a proper kiss.

“Miles, oh God, Miles...” she moaned.  Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just hard enough to shoot his lust up another few notches.  Her nails scraped lightly at his scalp.  Either the woman had psychic skills or she had just blindly stumbled onto the one thing guaranteed to get her a good, hard fucking. 

He licked and suckled and kissed, rewarding her when she began to move her hips.  A brief glance up only confirmed what he already knew:  Liz was lost. 

She looked so incredibly beautiful there, splayed out on the counter, a succulent feast for him and him alone. But once again, it didn’t last nearly as long as he would have liked.  All too soon he felt her toned, sexy legs begin to tighten around his neck.

“Yes, baby,” he encouraged with a long, languorous lick.  “Come for me, sweetness.” 

His lips wrapped around her little bundle of nerves while he worked his thumb just inside of her.  She was getting closer, climbing higher.  And just when she was about to topple over the edge, he switched digits and extended his long middle finger, curving it deep inside, applying pressure in one very specific place. 

It pushed her over the edge.  With a violent intake of breath, she lifted her hips and froze, suspended in the grips of another powerful orgasm.

It was good, but not good enough.  She still hadn’t screamed his name.

“Two for two, birthday girl.  Let’s see if I can go for three and hit the triple.”

* * *

L
iz moaned, her legs quivering like jelly around his neck.  Two orgasms in such quick succession had her feeling somewhat boneless.

Miles’ deep voice rumbled.  He was saying something, but in her disoriented state, she wasn’t quite sure what.  She opened her eyes to ask him to repeat whatever it was, but the words froze on her lips.  He was still there, between her trembling legs, but he was in the process of removing his shirt.

And ....
holy hell in a handbasket
!  His chest, his shoulders, his abs were even better than she had imagined.  She followed the light trail of dark, silky hair down and inhaled deeply.

He was undoing his pants.  In one heartbeat his belt was unclasped, the ends hanging open loosely.  In the next, his fly was down and he was pushing both his pants and his boxer briefs down impatiently.

And...
wow
.

Thick.  Rigid.  Long.  She blinked, certain she was hallucinating.

Then she whimpered.

A wicked smile graced that incredibly talented mouth as he sheathed himself.  “Keep looking at me like that, birthday girl.  Just like that.”

Miles stepped up and placed his big, warm hands at her waist even as she felt him prodding at her core.  “Say yes, birthday girl.  I need to hear it.”

“Yessss,” she somehow managed.

Miles pushed forward, impaling her in one swift, slick thrust.  She was already so primed and ready that despite his size, she felt no pain whatsoever.  Just bliss and a sense of incredible fullness.

“Fuck, you feel good.”

He moved slowly.  At first she thought it was to allow her to grow accustomed to him, but then she noticed the tendons visible in his neck and the way his corded muscles were straining against his skin.  Knowing that he was so close to the edge intensified her own pleasure. 

She flexed and squeezed her internal muscles – finally those damn Kegels came in handy! – eliciting a groan. 

“Stop that,” he chastised, punctuating the request with a solid thrust, “or I’m not going to be able to make that third wish come true.”

She didn’t stop.  She wanted him just as desperate as she was; he had a lot of catching up to do. 

“Jesus, woman,” he bit out, sending added thrills through her.

The strength and speed of his strokes increased, and incredibly, she was at that peak again. 

“Miles!” she screamed.  One hard thrust and he pushed her right over the edge again, only this time, she took him with her.

T
here it was.  His name on her lips as he pulsed inside of her.  He leaned his forehead against hers. 

He had planned to make it last a little longer, but damn, the woman had some impressive inner muscles.  He couldn’t remember when the last time was he had come quite so quickly.  Or so hard.

“Happy Birthday, Liz.”

Miles gently extracted himself.  After discreetly taking care of the condom, he turned around to find Liz already putting herself back together.  He took great pride in the fact that she seemed to be a little shaky while doing so.

“Thanks,” she said.  Something in her tone had him looking up sharply. 

“Thanks?” he repeated.  Why wasn’t she looking at him?

“Yeah, thanks,” she said, clearing her throat.  “For bringing me home.  For sharing a cupcake with me.  And for ... that.”

That awed, I-just-had-incredible-sex vibe faded rapidly.  Something was wrong.  He narrowed his eyes.  “Liz?”

When she looked at him, it was with such a look of shame that his gut clenched.  No woman had ever looked at him like that after sex.  Drunk with pleasure?  Sure.  Sated and boneless?  Definitely.  But ashamed?  Never.

“For the pity fu-.  Well, you know.  And for proving your point so eloquently.  I’m going to bed now.  Would you mind showing yourself out?”  Liz paused before leaving the kitchen.  “And Miles?  I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to Adam, okay?”

Then she was gone, leaving him standing there alone and feeling like he’d just been cold-cocked upside the head with a two-by-four.  What the hell?

The soft sound of her bedroom door closing roused him.  Feeling more than a little confused, Miles walked to the foyer, grabbed his coat, and let himself out.  A quick check of the door knob confirmed that it had locked behind him.  He stood on the small porch for a moment, then shook his head.

Climbing into his rented SUV, he drove quietly back to Adam’s, trying to figure out just what the hell had happened.

F
or about the hundredth time that morning, Liz closed her eyes and groaned.  What had she done?

You had hot, sweaty sex with Miles Grayson
, the little guardian angel on her left shoulder whispered with equal parts shame and disappointment.

So?
the little devil on her right shoulder countered. 
Lots of independent, empowered women have one-night hook-ups.  And Miles was hot.

But he’s going to be Holly’s brother-in-law.

Holly doesn’t have to know.

No, she wasn’t going to tell Holly, no matter how much she burned with the need to talk to someone about this.  She had crossed a few serious lines, and wasn’t exactly stoked about confessing.  Besides, Holly wasn’t even around today.  Adam was taking her up to New York to meet his family.

Would Miles go with them?  Probably. 

Would he say something?

No, Miles wouldn’t say anything.  He seemed far too intelligent to do something so stupid. 

Intelligent.  Sexy.  And incredibly skilled.  Forget five minutes.  Miles had given her her first orgasm in three, and then followed up with two more in quick succession.  Three orgasms in ten minutes.  That had to be some kind of world record. 

Not even Adam had managed that, and he and Holly were made for each other... 

Liz stilled as a wave of shock ran through her.  No, it wasn’t possible.  Miles Grayson was not The One.

She shook her head vehemently, wishing she hadn’t when the dull ache increased in intensity.  Miles Grayson was
not
her soul mate.  He was just extremely well-versed in giving a woman pleasure.

Which meant that he must have
lots
of experience.  That wasn’t surprising, giving that the man looked, smelled, and tasted like sex on a stick.  Liz was probably just one of many that had been left questioning their sanity the morning after. 

That was not a particularly pleasant thought, but it was exactly the dose of reality she needed to get her head out of the clouds.  Her programmer’s mind – structured and logical – analyzed the situation and drafted a bottom line synopsis:  They were two consenting adults, Miles had given her the best sex of her life, and that’s all there was to it.  It was a one-time, heat of the moment thing, and it wouldn’t happen again.

Good thing she’d gorged herself and was set for a while.

* * *

“E
arth to Miles.  Would you pass the potatoes, please?”

Miles ripped his thoughts away from yet another recollection of the previous night – this one a particularly vivid image of the caramel-colored, moon-shaped birthmark on the inside of Liz’s left thigh – and offered the bowl to his brother.  Thank God his parents’ attention had been more focused on Adam and Holly than him.  His mother hadn’t stopped smiling since they had appeared on the doorstep several hours earlier.