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Pressing the thick head of his cock against her opening, he eased into her tight, wet passage. Laine’s eyes closed, and she slid one bent knee high up his back as he pushed slowly inside her, deeper and deeper, until their bodies met in a hungry kiss of flesh.
He pulled back and then sank deep again, savoring her quiet gasp as his shaft nudged her womb. Thrusting steadily, his every penetrating stroke claimed her body until soft friction and measured movements gave way to reckless contact, and their bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat and slapped together with each driving thrust. Jason felt his balls contract, and the nerves throughout his body spark to life, lending to the sensation of impending release. Laine cried out, her inner walls constricting with hard rhythmic pulses around his cock, as she begged him to take her harder, faster. Gasping, she spasmed wildly around him, demanding his thundering release. He roared as his body tensed in pleasured agony, and his seed spurted out into the condom.
—
They’d made love… in a cake. Who knew how much time had passed since Jason, sated and fatigued, pulled her on top of him and closed his eyes. Laine had lost track of her place in the world the instant his mouth grazed hers. When they touched, every part of her body, every part of her mind, blurred into one driving need to merge with the man who made her insane.
Her heart was pounding in her chest—what was she doing? Jason was too much of a risk. She thought about him too often, too intensely, to keep her heart from getting involved. And, worse yet, the reality of him exceeded her fantasies by far.
Her phone rang. The muffled digital trill of Here Comes the Bride sounded from somewhere beneath the mush of cake and cream, indicating that Connie was the caller. Laine’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. She was buck-naked, sprawled atop the sleeping form of Jason Henley in what could only be described as a ruined prep room at the Henley Hotel. The remains of the cake were embedded in the carpet and her every nook, cranny and crease. What in the hell had she been thinking?
Frantic her boss somehow sensed that Laine had taken the perilous path and fallen into bed—er, on the floor—with their number one partner in the wedding industry, Laine was desperate to clarify to her—to anyone—the one-time nature of the whole thing. Pushing up on hands and knees astride Jason’s prone form, she tried to crawl off of him. Her knee slid out and her elbow jutted into his rib.
“Umph…”
“Shit—shit!!” she squeaked, digging through cake and clothing. Jason’s warm hand pressed against her back as h
e pulled her down to lave a wet kiss over her nipple before sucking the rosy tip into his mouth. “Shi—mmm,” She arched back and her nipple escaped the suction. “Jason, damn it! I need that phone. It’s Connie calling. I have to explain.”
“Okay, okay. Find your phone; talk to Connie.” Jason sat up and helped Laine get off of him. “Sounds like it’s coming from that pile of mush next to the cart.”
Laine crawled through the soggy mess and felt her way until she encountered the slim phone. She flipped it open with a small spray of sugar sludge and answered breathlessly. “Connie, I’m here. Sorry, I couldn’t—”
Connie’s smoke-worn voice snapped through the phone with more force than her two-pack a day Virginia Slims habit should have allowed. She wasn’t happy and she wasn’t mincing words. This was a fuck-up in her book, and she had a strict policy of three strikes and you’re out. This was Laine’s second.
After a few minutes of listening to Connie’s tirade, Laine swallowed hard and found her voice. “Connie, you are absolutely right, and I take full responsibility for dropping the ball here. I should have been on him more. Okay, I’ll see you in—” She looked down at her body and the tendrils of hair smeared with frosting. “Tomorrow… Yes, it’s going to take me a while to clean up a few details here… okay, see you then.”
Looking back over her shoulder, she saw Jason reclined against a toppled chair—his chiseled body streaked with soggy cake and frosting. He was so perfect. She wanted to crawl over and lick him from head to toe, detouring in the middle until he came in her mouth. How could a man with a glob of buttercream above his ear look so damn sexy?
Shaking her head clear, she smiled and, working at a casual sound, winked at him. “Thanks, I needed that.”
Jason’s brow furrowed a bit, and then he shrugged his shoulders in dismissal. “Welcome. So how about a shower and something in a size six, maybe, from the boutique?”
“Wow, you really are full service. I don’t suppose you have any idea how I might get to a shower without being seen by the staff?”
“Sorry, can’t guarantee that for you, but the elevators are just around the corner. Let’s get the table drape from under the cake here, and we’ll wrap it around you. Do you want the dress and shoes on or are you going buff underneath? Buff is my preference, but I’d keep you that way every minute of the day if I could, so you might want to decide for yourself.”
The way he looked her over had her body responding with a renewed pulse of need. She wanted to feel him buried inside her again, and maybe again after that. God, every touch had been perfect, intense. “I’ll wear the shoes. It’s more dignified, don’t you think?”
He laughed and, leaning forward, grabbed the sapphire blue strapped heels and reached out for Laine’s leg. Pulling her toward him, he caressed the ball and arch of her foot, stroked the heel, circled her ankle with the tip of his finger. He slipped on the sparkly shoe, carefully buckled the thin strap and ran his palm up her calf.
Under his spell, she let him move her leg so that her heeled foot was planted on the carpet, her knee bent, offering Jason an unobstructed view of her frosting smeared thighs and sex. He took her other foot into his hands and rubbed it briefly before working the tiny buckle into place. With a soft caress, he planted her other foot wide apart, leaving him access to her wet center.
Looking up at him with wonder at the sensuality he infused into every act, she whispered, “Okay, maybe just one more time.”
Chapter Two
Saturday, the twelfth of June
“You’re an asshole,” Laine said, setting up the white silk guest book with a ballpoint, plumed pen.
“So you tell me. Keep it up, and I might develop a complex.” Jason had been following her around while she set out the place cards for the reception, worked with the florist and checked in on her security detail—a guy on payroll assigned to be ever-present in the groom’s company. There would be no opportunity for dalliance. There would be no third strike. Of course that meant keeping fuck-ups that stressed out brides to a minimum, which meant keeping her mind off of Jason, the incredible, confusing lay from last week.
“I can’t believe you partnered with Connie, had me assigned exclusively to your hotel, and didn’t even have the courtesy to speak to me about it first.”
Grabbing the box of Jordon almond bundles in pink tulle, he followed her from setting to setting as she distributed the favors to the parents’ table. “I called you three times this week. I tried to talk to you when you were here on Wednesday and yesterday. Not my fault you’re too chicken to spend five minutes alone with me. Besides, you were already assigned to the Henley brides. Connie and I just put a few details down in ink.”
Dragging a long breath in through her nose, Laine tried to rein in her emotions. “Why would you need to do that? And I am not chicken, so get your ego in check. I’m busy. You might have noticed it’s June. High season. I don’t have a lot of free time right now.” She paused her bustling and glanced up at Jason. “Besides, we work together. This can’t be a good idea.”
