A Lot like Love (FBI/US Attorney #2)(70)

He stopped her with his hand and pinned her with his eyes when she looked up. “Come here.”

He saw the answer in the devious sparkle of her blue eyes.

No.

While holding his gaze, she teased the head of his c**k with her tongue, then slid him all the way back into her warm, wet mouth.

He nearly came right there.

Unable to resist, he watched as she continued with the delicious torture for several moments, and something about their eye-to-eye connection—and the fact that it was her—made it absolutely the hottest moment of his life. His tone was low and guttural. “Jordan.”

Hearing the edge to his voice, she released him from her mouth and sat up, straddling him with his c**k settled right between her legs. He slid his hands up and cupped her br**sts, gliding his thumbs over her ni**les. “Are you ready?” he asked, thinking he might spontaneously combust if he didn’t get inside her right then.

“So ready,” she said in a throaty voice.

Nick grabbed his wallet off the nightstand and pulled out a condom. He unwrapped it, placed it at the head of his cock, and took her hand, wanting her to do it. He cupped her ass as she rolled it over him. Then she leaned forward and rested her hands on his chest as he moved himself into position.

He kissed her as she lowered herself onto him, capturing her moan with his mouth as she stretched to accommodate him. When he was fully inside her, he clenched his jaw, straining against the overload of sensation. She felt so warm, so wet, and so f**king good, that his mouth just started talking. “Ride me, Jordan,” he groaned. “Oh God, baby . . . love me.”

She sat back and began sliding up and down on him. He held her hips, guiding her, moving her in a smooth, sensual rhythm, fighting the urge to go off at the sight of her naked above him in the bright light of day.

“Lean forward,” he rasped. “I want one of those beautiful br**sts in my mouth.”

With a sharp inhale, she did as he asked. He took one of her rosy ni**les into his mouth and flicked his tongue over it. Still riding him slowly, she let out a stifled cry, and he knew she was getting close. “Spread your legs wider,” he whispered. When she shifted, he grabbed hold of her hips and held her steady. He took charge of their rhythm, thrusting up into her with smooth, deep strokes. She said his name again, urgently, and he knew she was at the edge. And he was right there with her.

She whimpered and closed her eyes, and that sound, plus the exquisite expression on her face, drove him right over. “Let me feel it, baby,” he groaned. He kissed her as they both exploded, first her as she cried out, then he followed when he felt her tighten around him, pulling him deeper inside. They moved together, gasping and riding through the aftershocks, until she finally slowed to a stop and collapsed on his chest.

They lay there for a long time, skin to skin, hearts pounding.

After several minutes, she broke the silence. “That’s the longest we’ve ever gone without talking.” She perked her head up. “I didn’t break anything, did I?”

With his finger, Nick brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. “No.”

She looked concerned when he fell quiet again. “Are you okay?”

“Definitely. Just thinking that it’s never been . . .” He stopped awkwardly. Man, he sucked at this.

Her expression turned tender, a look that said she got it, as she leaned forward to cover his lips with her own.

“For me, either,” she whispered softly.

Twenty-seven

JORDAN PEERED THROUGH the car window at the heavy wrought-iron fence that loomed before them. The gates bore a marble crest with an elaborate monogrammed B, the logo for Barrasford Estate winery.

Nick sat next to her in the backseat. “Nobody’s answering. That’s a shame. Guess we’ll just have to head back to the resort.” He snapped his fingers. Damn.

“It looks like the driver is speaking to someone on the intercom now. Oh—and the gates are opening. See, I told you they were expecting us,” she said, nudging him.

“I’m excited. Really. How long do we have to stay?”

Jordan threw him a look. “It’s a wine tasting, Nick. You’re not exactly being tortured here.”

“Anything that keeps me from being alone with you is torture, Rhodes.”

She shook her head. “Ha—that’s not going to work this time.” She pointed. “Behind those gates is what’s rumored to be a new cabernet that rivals some of the best in all of Napa and Sonoma. I love cabernet. I’ve been in the Napa Valley for”—she checked her watch—“two hours and thirty-eight minutes and I haven’t had a drop of wine yet. Don’t get me wrong, I love earth-shattering sex as much as the next girl, but right now we are going inside and trying that wine.”

“What happens if I say no?”

“You can pretty much kiss spit or swallow good-bye.”

Nick was out of the car in a flash.

Jordan watched with amusement as he walked around the car, opened her door, and held out his hand, all gentlemanly.

“Ms. Rhodes.”

“Mr. Stanton.” She slipped her hand into his, looking forward to the day when he was once again simply Nick McCall.

Their driver nodded at them as they passed through the gates. “Enjoy the wine. I’ve heard good things.”