Sexy Silent Nights

By: Cara Summers

1

One sexy silent night…5:00 a.m.

CILLA MICHAELS WAS NOT GOING to leave the hotel room without her panties. She’d been a cop for three years, a private security agent for two, and now she headed up G.W. Securities’ new office in San Francisco. She was a pro at tracking things down.

On her hands and knees, she inched her way quietly down the length of her side of the bed, using her hand to sweep the space beneath it as she went.

Nothing.

She was not the kind of woman who would abandon anything that had a La Perla label on it. She’d parted with a small fortune for the red lace bikini, and it was part of a set. The matching camisole had already been located near the nightstand. She had a vague recollection of stripping it off and tossing it there herself. While in the throes of uncontrollable passion. Because that’s exactly what Jonah Stone had sparked in her.

Ducking her head down, she lifted the dust ruffle and peered beneath. The dim light slipping through the narrow slits in the drapes didn’t provide much in the way of illumination.

The rest of her clothes she’d found quite easily near the door of the hotel suite where Jonah Stone had efficiently stripped her out of them. The man had fast moves, and just thinking about what had happened the instant the door had closed behind them brought back the sensation of those hard hands on her skin, the impatience, the demand. And the pleasure.

Heat shimmered through her, pooling in her center and then radiating outward. He’d taken her the first time right there. No small talk. No talk at all. But the foreplay had been top-notch. His hands had pushed into her hair, and she’d felt each of those hard, slender fingers while he’d assaulted her mouth with lips, teeth and tongue. Each sensation had been so sharp. If she lived to be a hundred, she would never forget his mouth, his taste.

Then he’d moved those hands over her shoulders, shoving her jacket off and molding her body with such purpose and skill.

He’d smelled so good and felt better—hard and tough and male. Hadn’t she been imagining him just like this ever since the instant she’d first seen him at that party yesterday?

When those smoky-gray eyes had collided with hers, something had clicked inside of her like a switch turning brains cells off and lust on—full throttle. That was the only explanation she could come up with for agreeing to his one-night stand proposition.

His argument had been logical enough—just the kind you’d expect from an astute businessman. After all, they were unattached adults, intensely attracted to each other, and fate in the form of an airport-closing blizzard had thrown them together. Why not pleasure each other for one long, sexy night and then go their separate ways?

She might have come up with at least two good reasons why not. In fact she’d been thinking about them when he’d suddenly appeared at her table in the lounge of the hotel. But looking into his eyes had triggered that little click again, and sent logic flying.

That was how she’d ended up against the door of his hotel room, his mouth branding hers. She had only a blurry recollection of how her sweater and slacks had hit the floor. Her focus had been on those hard hands moving up her legs and heating her blood to the boiling point. She’d never before experienced such intense sensations. Never wanted anyone so desperately. He’d opened up a new and wonderful world for her. Sensations flooded through her again as she recalled how he’d slipped fingers beneath the thin lace that still covered her, pushed into her and sent her flying.

Again.

He’d whispered the word so quietly against her mouth. His hands had already slid between them. She caught the rasp of a zipper, the tear of foil. The sounds might have been the most erotic she’d ever heard. Even as he sheathed himself, the need inside her had spiked into craving. She had to have him inside her. She couldn’t survive another ten seconds if he wasn’t.

Now. Right now.

He’d dug fingers into her hips, lifting her as she’d wrapped arms and legs around him. Then he’d driven into her, and she hadn’t cared if she survived at all. His thrusts had battered her against the door again and again. Fast. As if he’d needed this to survive just as much as she had. That was the last rational thought she’d registered before his release triggered an orgasm that had simply shattered her.

Drawing in a deep breath, Cilla pressed a hand against her hammering heart. A little side-trip down memory lane was not going to help her find her panties. All it made her want to do was crawl back into bed with Jonah.

Don’t think about that. No more fantasies, either. That’s what had landed her in this situation—a one-night stand in a hotel near the Denver airport with Jonah Stone—a man she’d met for the first time only yesterday.

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