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Uniform Desire Page 5
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Page 5
With a flourish worthy of a season sommelier, he lifted out the object, bent slightly at the waist, and laid it over his forearm.
A fire extinguisher!
"Hey.” She stiffened and arched, putting several inches between their bodies. “Should I be insulted?"
"I figured not having to cook would boost the percentages for a quiet evening.” A grin spread his lips, showing a flash of white teeth. “But I wasn't taking any chances."
The longer she looked at the safety equipment, the more touching his gesture became. The backs of her eyes burned. He truly cared about her well-being. “That's so thoughtful, Captain. Thanks."
"Conor. You've never said my name."
Guilt weighed on her conscience. She shook her head and flipped her hair off the back of her neck. “Sure I have."
"Not yet.” He crossed the floor to the back door and flipped the deadbolt, turned and pinned her with a stare. “Tonight you will.” He strode out of the room.
His footsteps echoed throughout the house, announcing his path. The front door opened and closed, its lock snapping into place. The muffled thud of his boots on the carpet approached, then clumped onto the floor. He walked to the phone on the counter, studied it a moment, then pulled the plug from the electrical socket.
What's going on here? “Hey!” A frisson of unease zipped through her.
"Hold on.” He held up a hand, reached into his jeans pocket with his other hand, and pulled out his cell phone. With his thumb, he flipped it open and depressed the power button. Musical notes sounded as the phone powered down.
"Now yours.” A cupped hand extended across the space separating them.
Her blood pumped. He was being authoritative again, and she loved it. Fighting back a grin, she grabbed her purse from the table and clicked off her phone, setting it on the counter next to his. “Done."
"Tonight"—he swept a hand at the food containers—"is for getting acquainted. To linger over a good meal and talk, to see if we have common interests."
His thoughtfulness was touching, but the serious tone of his voice spiked tingles of need swirling deep in her belly. “Sounds good."
He hung his thumbs in his belt loops. “Tonight is for you to learn about who I am, not the job I perform."
The stance he adopted exuded power, and she indulged in a slow perusal of his body. Her nipples tightened into hard nubs and poked against the soft T-shirt. With a slow move, she crossed her arms, hoping to disguise her obvious reaction.
Too late. His blue-eyed gaze narrowed on her chest, then lifted to connect with hers. He moved two steps closer. “Tonight, you'll use my name."
The heat running through her body was unbearable. She closed the distance, rested a hand on his chest, and stretched on her toes to kiss his chin. “I love that you brought dinner.” She flicked her tongue in the hollow below his lip, watching his eyes widen and then narrow. Smooth skin meant he'd shaved before arriving. A considerate gesture. “I like the idea of getting acquainted."
Her other hand ran down the fly of his trousers, and her fingers cupped the bulging cock she'd seen stretching the upper thigh of his jeans. “But I am just too distracted, cowboy."
"Rikka.” His body went rigid and he sucked in a breath through his teeth.
She ignored the warning note in his voice and ran her fingers along his jeans, massaging and stroking, until she felt him press against her hand. Then she stepped back, stripped the T-shirt over her head and dropped it over her shoulder. “I'm going to shower.” Hoping her action hadn't blown this opportunity, she swung around and, putting an extra swing in her step, walked toward her bedroom. “Care to join me?"
A few feet down the hall, she heard the grocery bag crinkle and she paused. Oh, crap. She had ruined this chance. He was packing up the food and leaving?
At the glorious thud of boots dropping to the floor, she grinned and scampered into her room. In a few seconds, she'd grabbed a pack of matches and lit the candles on her nightstand.
"Is that wise?"
"Sure.” She could listen to his deep voice all day ... or all night. “I've got my own firefighter to douse the flame."
He stepped close and wrapped his arms around her bare stomach, a thumb grazing the underside of her breast. “Not exactly what I had in mind."
Resting her head back on his bare shoulder, she snuggled close and kissed his neck. God, she couldn't think straight about what he wanted, his expectations. Not with the sexy man within her reach.
"Why does this feel like an escape plan, instead of doing what I want?"
She turned, dragging her breasts across his chest. Her hands rose to glide over his protruding nipples then down over his rippled stomach to rest on his belt buckle. “We'll talk later."
With nimble moves, she unbuckled his belt and tugged.
"Stop.” His hand covered hers, holding it captive. “I want this, Rikka. God knows how much I want to climb into that bed and thrust my dick into your sweet body."
The words were exactly what she wanted to hear, but the frustration in his voice wasn't good. “But?"
"You know what I want."
She should—he'd already told her twice. All he wanted was her to call him by his name, not some generic, albeit sexy, nickname. She gazed deep into his blue eyes and knew. Speaking his name wasn't an act of capitulation, but of acceptance. Of acknowledging they might have something more to share than hot sex.
Suddenly she wanted to oblige, wanted to make that scary move and explore real intimacy.
Taking a step back, she pushed her shorts over her hips and let them fall to the carpet. With slow steps, she walked to the bed and slipped onto her left side, crooking her right knee. “I'm right here."
His eyes flared and a wide grin spread his lips. With a growl, he yanked off his jeans and crawled onto the bed. His trail of kisses started at her toes and inched up her leg.
"Slow comes later.” With her free hand, she cupped her breast and pinched her nipple between two fingers. Need gripped her, clenching her womb. “Right now, I'm so hot I want a fast fuck. Then I'll be calmer and able to concentrate on those wonderful things you've said."
Lips melded, tongues swirled and hands caressed, each bringing the other to a fever pitch. They rolled across the mattress, kissing what skin they could reach. When her breath grew raspy, and she rolled her hips against his hard cock, she knew she was close.
"Now, stud. Fuck me."
Eyes blazing, he loomed over her, the head of his cock rubbing in an arc along her inner thighs.
At the press of his cock on her wet folds, she surged, trying to take him inside her aching flesh. “Oh, yes, now!"
"You want my cock inside you?” His biceps bunched and he scooted his lower body away, a grin twitching on his lips. “Say my name, Rikka."
"Oh, you feel so good.” She stretched a hand forward, reaching between their bodies for his rigid girth. “I want you deep."
Conor sat back on his haunches, his stiff cock saluting from the dark patch of curls at his groin. “I want you as mine."
Her gaze enjoyed every inch of his pose. He reminded her of a pagan warrior, naked and ready to do battle. “What?” She sat up. Excitement kindled in her heart. “As in sex on a regular basis?"
"At first.” He reached over the side of the bed and brought up a foil package. With a rip, the covering was gone and he positioned the ring over the head of his cock. “But I'll want more."
"Dating?” The condom meant he was as ready as she. Her mouth went dry.
He cupped his hand over the head and repositioned the condom. “Definitely and I'll expect no competition."
Did he really have to keep adjusting that thing? His cock swayed with each movement, and her fingers itched to roll the thin rubber down his straining penis.
By sheer will, she dragged her gaze off what his hand was doing and up to his face. “Oh, exclusive dating?"
The feeling of being manipulated only heightened her desire, and her breath caught
. Watching his fingers roll the condom along his glorious length made her pussy tighten with anticipation.
The facts were staring her in the face. She wanted the man. In fact, he was everything she'd ever wanted. Not to jump at the chance of creating a relationship was pure foolishness.
"Say it ... make the commitment."
Infusing her gaze with her best “come hither” look, she crawled across the mattress, aware of the swinging of her breasts as she moved. That just added to her readiness. “Get ready, stud.” Balancing her hands on his shoulders, she straddled his tight thighs and inched her way upward.
His hands clamped on her hips and locked, keeping her from climbing higher.
Looking from beneath her eyelashes, she laughed. “You didn't let me finish."
A muscle in his jaw jerked. “So finish."
"I'm coming for you, Conor."
His gaze heated and his fingers relaxed. He lifted and held her poised over her desired goal. “I want to hear it again."
"But I did what you asked. I said your name.” His teasing sent her desire through the roof.
He lowered her until just the head of his cock entered her body and she sighed, then he lifted her off. “So I'm selfish."
Her hands tunneled through his hair, loving the feel of the thick strands, and cupped the back of his head. “Conor, I want to come for you."
With a groan, he surged upward, spearing her in one delicious, long stroke. “At your service, ma'am."
The sudden move made her suck in a breath, sensations zapping her from all angles. His bristly pubic hair tickled her pussy, heightening her arousal. All over her body, her skin zinged with sensitivity.
His arms wrapped around her back and pulled her tightly against his body. He trailed hot kisses along her neck.
But the closeness wasn't enough.
Her arms tightened around his neck and she flexed her hips, pressing her clit against his sliding cock. The friction started a throbbing that flared into an inferno. She cried out and clenched her legs around his back.
"Hey, darlin', let me hear you.” His hands grabbed her ass and pulled her in short strokes along his thighs. “Tell me what you want."
In a haze, she recognized what he wanted to hear, but she was too close to her orgasm. Dirty talk could be saved for another night. The excitement that thought generated sent her over the edge, and her pussy pulsed with release.
"Oh, yeah, I feel you.” Conor pressed upward and circled his hips. “Strong and deep, nothing better."
She hadn't noticed this the first time, but he was a talker. A trait she could live with. At that thought, her insides warmed. This man was becoming special. She loosened her hold and leaned down to flick a tongue over his nipple, then closed her mouth and sucked.
"Ah.” He stiffened and pumped once more, then held her tight as rhythmic jerks shook her vagina.
When his breathing had slowed again, she wiggled in his lap to get his attention. “Now that I satisfied your demand..."
He pressed his forehead to hers. “The jury is still out on that."
"You need to make me one promise.” She traced his mouth with a finger.
A warm tongue slid out and ran along her skin. “What's that?"
"Next time, wear the Stetson to bed."
Her answer was a whoop of deep laughter and a long, slow, sexy kiss.
Layla Chase
Layla Chase writes contemporary stories as well as historicals and is published in short romantic fiction. Years spent in the business world prompted her to seek out her more creative side. There, she discovered all sorts of characters whose stories she needed to share. A native of California, she now lives in Texas with her husband and the youngest of her three children.
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