What Happened in Vegas.... Wendy Etherington

from the other room were gone, replaced by a wavy-patterned bedspread and delicate, sun-bleached seashells arranged in a crystal bowl on the nightstand.

      He’d just caught a glimpse of a picture of Jacinda and a blond-haired man posing in the shallows of the ocean when her bra hit the carpeted floor.

      “Are we—”

      “We’re getting naked,” she said, planting her hands on her hips as his gaze took in her naked-to-the-waist lushness.

      Sweat broke out on his brow. Dear heaven, he’d somehow forgotten how amazing her body was.

      She angled her head. “It’s better naked, don’t you think?”

      “Ah, it’s pretty good no matter what.”

      She grinned. “True.” She flopped back on the bed, her elegant skirt hitched halfway up her thighs.

      And just like that, with her nearly naked, her eyes glittering and need clearly stamped on her face, he wanted to slow things way down.

      He hadn’t gone to Jacinda to charm his way into her bed—though that might have been a secondary thought after he’d acquired the emerald. He’d hoped their past would have established a familiarity and sense of trust that he wouldn’t have gotten from another auction house staff member.

      He knew Jacinda. He knew she was honest and determined, smart and professional. He admired her guts, ambition and resourcefulness to use all the assets she possessed to get what she wanted—namely, her body and her brains.

      He hadn’t counted on her being ashamed of her past, though why the hell that hadn’t occurred to him was, at the moment, a complete mystery of idiocy.

      In retrospect, he wished he could have marched into a stranger’s office, said the name Sophia Graystone and waited for them to bow at his feet. As he watched Jacinda crook her finger toward him, he realized he’d tangled his past and present, his professional and personal lives far too intimately.

      Jump her! his body urged. Who cares how complicated things get?

      He waited, for just a second, for his practical section to argue.

      Silence.

      Grinning, he dropped to the bed beside her. He laid on his side and drew his finger down the center of her bare chest. “We don’t have to be in a hurry, do we?”

      She rolled over on top of him, straddling his hips. “Sure we do.”

      “That works, too,” he said, reaching for the zipper at the back of her skirt as she shoved his T-shirt up.

      When she’d bared his chest, she leaned down…kissed his neck, then quickly moved to his nipples. She flicked her tongue across each one in turn, shooting flames of pleasure to his groin.

      All he could manage to do was grip the comforter in his fists and arch into her touch.

      Being the determined, multitasking woman she was, she managed to release the buttons on his jeans, even as her mouth and tongue continued their exploration of his chest. She rendered him helpless and needy so quickly. His senses were bombarded by her, the feel of her hot, bare skin against his, her breasts brushing his chest, her palms skimming his sides.

      Her scent washed over him, like coconut milk, but also slightly tangy like the sea. The only sounds in the room were the combination of their breathing and the occasional horn from the street outside. But he imagined hearing the crashing ocean waves. He’d like to see her in the sand, digging—

      His breath froze in his chest as she released his erection, cupping him and running her hand up and down its rigid length. His heart pounded like a chugging freight train.

      “Oh, man.”

      Jacinda’s face hovered above his. “I think I remember where this goes.”

      He croaked out a chuckle. He wasn’t going to last long if she kept doing that. “If you forget, I’ll remind you.”

      She released him suddenly, and he sat up. “Hey, where—”

      She’d scooted to the bedside table, where she pulled out a foil-wrapped condom. She tossed it to him, then wriggled her way out of her skirt and panties.

      He stopped himself from asking her to move slower, to draw out the striptease. But since his erection was throbbing impatiently, he rolled on the protection.

      The moment she was naked, he grabbed her arm and tugged her onto her back, then positioned himself between her legs.

      “My stamina isn’t great. I’ve spent the last four months in the Andes.”

      “No sex in four months?”

      “None.”

      She smiled. “I’ll be happy to get you back in the swing of things.” She grabbed his hips and pulled him deep inside her.

      His breath released in a whoosh, and he lay still for a moment, absorbing the pulsing beats of their hearts, relishing the heat and closeness.

      But his body didn’t want quiet reflection, it wanted to move. He lifted his hips, then sank deeper inside, earning a throaty moan of approval from Jacinda. He continued moving with as much control as he could manage, desperately holding back the urge to quicken his thrusts, to drive toward completion without any finesse or gentleness.

      Then she wrapped her legs around his hips and arched her back, her eyes fluttering closed, her breathing growing shallow and labored. Her obvious pleasure increased his own. He longed to draw out both of their satisfaction, but his muscles were tight from holding back. His body was screaming at him.

      He moved his hands underneath her, shifting the angle of her hips, penetrating in a different way, a way he distinctly remembered her enjoying quite a bit.