Hot Commodity (Banks / Kincaid Family #1)(11)

What exactly she begged for, she had no idea. But he seemed to understand. He surged then, a quick thrust that caught a scream right in her lungs. He plunged at a speed that left her hanging on for dear life.

The first orgasm had her gouging deep half-moons in the glistening skin of his back. He gripped her hair, tugging her head back and kissing her as she came hard and wild, bucking frantically. She bit his lip, tasting blood as she struggled against him, needing to get closer and further away at the same time, needing her skin gone so everything could get out. Finally, she gasped and pulled taut, spreading her arms and legs wide. Done fighting it, she let the release consume her body and soul.

When she settled, she felt spent, utterly exhausted. But he continued to swing his hips, pushing deeper and faster while she lay as limp as a Raggedy Ann doll.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she closed her eyes and clung. He kissed her throat, repositioned her legs even wider apart, and, like turning on a light, flipped her on again, making her back bow. Her body felt electrocuted and she went rigid again. The surge of power that zapped her from head to toe made her cry out another silent scream.

He threw back his head, and she watched the muscles in his neck tense as he clenched his teeth and gritted out a low moan. The sound reverberated through her and caused her orgasm to ripple and splinter out of control.

Olivia felt so limp and boneless afterward, she barely noticed when he pulled out and plopped onto his back beside her.

"Holy Mother of God," he wheezed, sounding amazed and dazed, and so winded he panted as if he’d been without air for a few minutes. He set the back of his hand over his glistening forehead and blew out a long breath, though that didn’t seem to help his erratic breathing much.

She smiled at the compliment and curled on her side against him. Closing her eyes, she sighed and inhaled the musky scent of his skin. This man, this man whom she’d never known before tonight, had succeeded in doing something no one else had ever done. He made her smile after sex.

Ignorant of his own accomplishment, he wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her closer. "You’re something else," he mumbled drowsily, his breathing finally starting to regulate itself.

She kissed his shoulder and yawned. "So’re you."

"This definitely calls for a post-coital toast," he added, catching her

contagious yawn and experiencing one of his one. Then he fisted his hand and lifted it in the air. "To the hottest woman alive," he announced and tapped his fist twice against his chest.

Then he spooned himself behind her, curling his body protectively around hers. She smiled and closed her eyes. It felt nice, having him snuggle his nose into her hair and sling his arm over her hip, pulling her flush against him. She might not know him from Adam, but something about him made her feel secure and protected as if nothing—not even Vivian—could ever hurt her again. Content, she yawned one last time and relaxed against her new husband, slipping into a pleasant, dreamless sleep.

*

"Oh. My. God."

Cameron Banks woke to someone rudely hollering in his ear. He winced and moaned. It felt as if someone was taking an axe to his temple and chopping all the way to the gooey center.

Whoa. Hangover City.

He hadn’t felt this disoriented and tormented after a night of booze in a long time. Probably because he hadn’t drunk in such a long time.

But today, every nerve ending in his brain shrieked. And his sister’s insistent voice didn’t help the situation in the least.

"Cam." She jerked at his shoulder, only intensifying his agony.

He gasped and then held very still until the needle of white-hot pain in the back of his skull dissipated.

"Cam!"

"What?" he croaked in a muffled voice as he buried his face back into his pillow.

"How could you? Have you no decency at all for your family? This is my house for God’s sake!"

"Damn, Leah," he mumbled. "Lower your voice, will you? I’ve got a killer headache."

"Oh, do you really," Leah said sarcastically. "Hmm, I wonder why?"

Cameron cocked one eye open and turned his head to watch her bend down and snag something off the floor: a shot glass advertising "Battista's Hole In The Wall" nightclub.

Oops.

His sister shook it in his face. "This wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would it?"

He groaned. "Sorry. Forgot to hide that."

Leah lifted an eyebrow. "Hmm, too bad," she agreed. "Too bad you couldn’t hide the girl too."

"Huh?" he asked, squeezing his eyes closed and stretching his arms above his head. Man, he felt like crap. He couldn’t even remember when he’d gotten home last night. Or how.

What in the world had he done? Jesus, what day was it?

"The glass is actually minor compared to her," Leah was saying.

"Her who?" He smacked his lips a few times to loosen his dehydrated tongue from the roof of his mouth.

When Leah merely scowled at him and dumped an armload of something on top of him, he jerked to a sitting position. Cursing and blinking repeatedly, he took in the black high heels, torn fishnet hose and a slinky strip of black silk cloth. Intrigued by the tiny scrap of cloth, he picked it up with one finger and lifted it for a curious inspection. Good God. Was that—was that underwear?