The Singles Table (Marriage Game #3)(54)

Constrained by a fierce desire to succeed, to prove himself to a father who didn’t want him, he had sought that same freedom in the air force, where he could lose himself to the adrenaline rush and the endless blue sky.

“Is your secret a supreme self-confidence and an ego so big I have to step around it?” She put one hand on his chest. For a moment he thought she’d push him away but when she didn’t move, he felt an overwhelming sense of relief. He’d wondered all week if he’d scared her away with that kiss. It had been hell giving her space, but he couldn’t take any chances. Slowly but surely Zara was working her way under his skin.

“I don’t give my secrets away for free.” He slid one hand around her waist, pulling her close.

Zara melted against him, hands sliding up and over his shoulders. “Will you tell me for a kiss?”

“Possibly.” He drew his finger down, following the edge of her top where it dipped low between her breasts. Her skin was soft, her perfume so lush and sensual it clouded his senses.

She leaned up, feathered kisses along his jaw. “Can it be now?”

He meant to give her a soft kiss, a gentle kiss, testing the waters to see if she truly wanted to come on this ride with him. But the moment their lips met, something snapped inside him. Four days of longing and fantasies. A lifetime of loneliness. A need so fierce, he twisted his hand in her hair and claimed her mouth in a fury of passion and desire.

Zara groaned and melted against him. He could feel the rapid beat of her heart, taste the sweetness of chocolate in her mouth. Never comfortable with public displays of affection, he didn’t care if the entire world saw them so long as she kept kissing him and never stopped.

“Jay.” She drew back, breaking the spell. “What’s the secret? Tell me or I won’t kiss you like that again.”

Laughter warmed him. “The secret is . . .” That he wanted her. Needed her. Was willing to do whatever it took to convince her that he was nothing like the lovers who had hurt her in the past. But he couldn’t tell her. Not yet. Not if he wanted to keep her in his life. “I want to put a pause on our deal.”

“What does that mean? You don’t want me to find you a match?”

“I think you need to get to know me better,” he said, nuzzling the slim column of her throat. “Then you’ll know my perfect match when you see her.”

“Mmmm.” She tipped her head to the side, giving him better access. “Good idea. I really shouldn’t have jumped into this without doing the proper research. Usually I know the people I’m matching, but you are still a bit of a mystery.”

A smile spread across his face. “I am open to being unraveled.”



* * *



? ? ?

He was only vaguely aware of their trip to her house. There was a company limo—he didn’t know who ordered it, maybe him?—and Zara straddling his lap, grinding against him until he was so hard he could barely see. Eyes watching in the rearview mirror. Someone—the driver?—mentioned something about a privacy screen. And then they were alone behind a smoky glass shield, and his fingers were buried in the softness of her hair, and he was devouring her mouth like he hadn’t kissed a woman in years.

There were groans—his—and moans—hers—and cool hands under his shirt, nails scraping his skin, zings of electricity along his nerves, clothes tearing . . .

“Not here.” Her words. Because if he had his way, she’d already be naked and the limo driver would have been handsomely paid to take a coffee break somewhere far away.

He had a vision of himself pushing her onto the seat, flipping up that pretty skirt, and hammering into her until they both shattered in ecstasy and she screamed his name. Had he spoken those words out loud?

“Law . . . Indecent exposure . . .” Words he didn’t understand except they meant more waiting when he ached to get his hands on her, strip her naked, and make all his fantasies come true.

Insatiable, he tore open her top and flicked the catch on her bra, freeing her breasts from their restraint. Beautiful. Round and firm. Nipples hardened to deliciously dark peaks. He drew one into his mouth, licked and sucked until she cried out. Her hand tightened in his hair until pain merged with pleasure, and he couldn’t think beyond doing it again.

“This is probably a mistake.”

Definitely not his words, and belied by her laughter, her frenzied pawing at his shirt, and the scatter of buttons across the limo floor. Wild. He had captured her wild and it would set him free.

Nails scraping down his chest, yanking on his belt. His cock hard and pulsing in anticipation.

“How much longer?” Fingers stroking. Hand in his boxers. The mind-numbing pleasure of her palm on his shaft.

Time didn’t matter. The need to have her was fierce and intense, demanding instant satisfaction. He wanted her. Here. Now. Hidden by blacked-out windows in the dead of the night.

With rough hands, he shoved her skirt over her hips. Red silk panties. Teasing. Tantalizing.

“Tear them off.” Her urgency pleased him, called to the animal frenzy of his lust.

“Law? Indecent exposure?”

“Fuck it.”

Her panties rendered with a soft whimper, fluttered to the floor. Soft and dark her secrets beckoned. He parted her folds and sank a thick finger deep inside her wet center. She gasped, arched against him. He gave her another finger, his free hand in her hair, holding her still, baring her neck for the heated slide of his lips.