Hot Commodity (Banks / Kincaid Family #1)(9)

The music began, and a sudden thought struck her. "Hey," she said, tightening her hand on his arm.

He glanced down. "Hmm?"

She leaned closer. "What’s your name?"

He grinned and slurred out a name. He said something with one syllable, starting with a k sound and ending with an n. Or maybe it was an m. It sounded like Kim or Kam. But the music was so loud, she could barely hear. So, she figured his name was probably Ken. She almost laughed at that. She’d derogatorily been called Barbie more than once in her life. It seemed fitting to end up with a Ken.

"What’s yours?" he asked, nudging her elbow to catch her attention.

"’Livia," she slurred out, beaming up at him.

He held out a hand and grinned. "Nice to meet-cha."





Three



She was married. And for some reason, Olivia felt extremely giddy. Now that she was Mrs. Ken Whatever-His-Last-Name-Was, she was free: free from Vivian and that crusty, old tycoon her mother wanted her to marry. She had her handsome, young Ken, and they were going to live happily ever after. Forever.

Yes, everything seemed right in the world.

As soon as they were handed a copy of their license and Ken shoved it into his back pocket, they were on their way.

He hailed them a cab and held open the back passenger-side door, sweeping out his arm with a flourish for her to enter first. "Dear wife," he offered.

She grinned. "Why thank you, dear husband," she answered, making sure to brush by him as she passed.

He growled possessively in her ear and caught hold of her hip as he followed her inside. He yanked her back to him for a hungry kiss even before he had the door shut. Olivia felt glad she was already sitting or her jellied knees would’ve given out. But the man truly had a magic mouth. And he knew how to use it.

"Hey!" the taxi-driver called from the front seat, sounding annoyed as if that wasn’t the first time he’d tried to get their attention. "Where to?"

Ken lifted his head long enough to spit out an address. Then he crushed his mouth back to hers.

"Tonight," he murmured against her hair as his lips traveled down her temple. "Tonight, baby, I’m going to make you mine."

His hand moved up her thigh and disappeared under her skirt. Half a second later, hot fingers cupped her through her thong. Olivia’s head fell back and she hissed out an intoxicated breath. Catching sight of her exposed throat, he leaned forward and nipped at her collarbone with his teeth. Then he licked the spot and she gasped, never having realized her neck hid such sensitive delight.

Her French-tipped nails dug into his shoulders when he grabbed her

waist and pulled her into his lap so she could face him. Straddling him, she tugged his head closer. He dipped his mouth to her cleavage and caressed the slopes of her breasts with his warm breath.

She was so drunk, a part of her mind became numb to the reality of their foreplay. She felt outside herself, like an observer watching him kiss her chest and stroke her through her underwear. It certainly didn’t seem like her playing naughty in the back of a cab. It felt fabulous, yes, but it didn’t feel real. So she made no attempt to stop him.

When they finally came to a jarring halt, Olivia whimpered because Ken had to lift her off his lap so he could shell out their fare. Tab paid, he reached for her, and she clung desperately, kissing his jaw as he opened the door.

"In the house," he panted and nudged her out into the warm night.

They were still standing there kissing as their ride disappeared. Finally, Ken broke away to rasp, "Inside."

Olivia turned and jerked to a startled stop. Ken bumped into her from behind. The mansion was every bit as big as her home in California, but this place looked about twenty years newer.

Her jaw dropped. "You live here?"

It didn’t seem possible. He looked too poor, and he’d been in such a low-class bar.

"My sister’s place," he said from behind her, his hand coming around her waist as he pulled her back against him and stroked the rim of her ear with his tongue.

She shivered and leaned back, taking the fingers at her waist and nudging them down. Like a good boy, he dipped his hand inside the waistband of her leather skirt.

Though her mind turned fuzzy with need, she had one last moment of clarity to frown and ask, "You live with your sister?"

He pressed her from behind with his erection as if guiding her toward the front door with it. "She makes me stay at her place when I’m in town," he answered, though his voice sounded muffled, what with his teeth full of her earlobe.

He tugged slightly. She moaned and arched back against him, forgetting her curiosity.

The twenty-foot walk to the front door was the longest Olivia had ever made. Erotic touches and naughty words filled every step. She honestly didn’t think they were going to make it. She came so close to the edge she was ready to throw herself down on the sidewalk and pull him on top of her. As he pinned her against the front door and rid her of her stilettos, panty hose and thong, she wrapped her legs around his waist, tilting her hips up to receive him. He cursed and kissed her hard as he struggled to dig his key from his pocket. Unable to coordinate, he finally sat her down and then nudged her a few feet away, telling her he needed to concentrate. She

laughed but stayed back.

"Here, hold these," he muttered and shoved the shoes and hose at her. "Thanks."