“Uh-uh.”
“Oh, one more stipulation. You are not allowed to come.”
Her eyes shot open. “Did you say-
not
?”
Skimming his hand lightly up the plump side swell of her breast, he followed the taut arch of her neck, running his palm up to the stubborn tilt of her chin then spread his fingers gently over the rapid, erratic pulse at the base of her throat. Her eyes fluttered open, wary, and shadowed. “
Not
.”
“At all?”
“Until I say so.”
“You can’t control whether I climax or not, Navarro!”
“Maybe yes, maybe no. More important, can you?”
“While we’re both naked and wanting, you’re telling me to basically
hold
it?” she demanded incredulously.
“Watch how much your body wants my touch. Feel how badly I want you.” Stroking his fingers back down her throat, he savored the texture of her skin. Milky pale, fine-grained, and smooth as Chinese silk. Yet, he knew that beneath the softness and fragility was a warrior woman who could take him down in a heartbeat. She might be naked, but tucked under the pillow, inches from her unbound hands, was her SIG.
The unpredictability turned him on even more.
Poised on a knife’s edge himself, he cupped her breast, testing the weight and warmth of it before brushing the erect nipple with his thumb. She trembled, but didn’t move as he held her gaze. “Feel good?”
Her pupils flared, but her mouth remained a firm flat line.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Spreading his hand on her taut belly, Rafael bent his head, taking the tight bud into his mouth. Her abs contracted beneath his hand as he sucked then swirled his tongue around the engorged tip. Easing his hand up, he cupped her other breast, molding it with his fingers, tweaking her other nipple until her entire body stiffened. Perspiration bloomed on her skin, turning it to pearl. He moved on, leisurely kissing his way down the center of her abs, tasting and touching as he went.
The smell of her arousal ratcheted his own. Rafael was so hard he figured he could pole-vault directly to Prague without benefit of the plane. He pressed his face against her flat belly, fighting for control, grateful she appeared as frozen as he was for the moment. One wrong move and his self-control would be shot to hell.
After a few moments, when he trusted himself to torment her without doing himself a serious injury, he let his lips explore the shadowy indent of her navel, and his fingers explored the damp tangle of pale curls hiding her sex.
Using his knee, he spread her legs then used both hands to cup the tight globes of her ass. He slid down until he was breathing the uniquely spicy, ocean scent of her. A scent he’d know in the dark in a room filled with women. He was a homing device for Honey Winston.
He pressed his face against her mound, wishing he’d had time to shave, and rubbed his rough jaw over the springy curls, inhaling deeply as his heart went ballistic. His other homing device was like a dowsing rod, and she the well.
She gave a small cry of pleasure, her hips jerking in response. “Okay. You . . . proved your . . . point . . .”
Opening her with his tongue, he tasted her. Her internal muscles spasmed against his mouth. Salty and delectable, slick and hot. He knew Honey wasn’t faking her response now. She was melting, and he lapped at her until she squirmed in his hands, her breathing harsh and labored. He took the swollen bud of her clit gently between his lips. Her back arched under the tormenting lash of his skillful tongue and the careful nip of his teeth as he used every ounce of his skill, licking and lapping. Slow. Patient. Relentless.
“Oh, G—”
He kept her on the very precipice. Advancing and retreating. Loving the convulsions rippling through her but not letting up until she cried out and fell apart.
On his last gossamer thread of control, Rafael surged up her silky, sweat-dampened body, penetrating her like a pressure-driven projectile, plunging inside her to the hilt. God—the feel of her closing around him made him go deaf and blind. His fingers tightened on her ass cheeks as he pumped into her like a crazy man. Primitive. Feral—
The orgasm hit him with the shock wave of a bomb blast. An exothermic reaction of light, overpressure, fragmentation, and the violent release of energy. He cried out her name and let the explosion take him.
NINETEEN
N
aked, Navarro leaned against the open door of the head, watching her transform in front of the mirror. Cleopatra-style, short, black wig. Smoky, dark brown eyes, and red lips. She didn’t recognized herself. She’d briefly met Andriy Kobevko seven years ago. The bomber was reputed to have an almost photographic memory. She wasn’t taking any changes that he’d recognize her.
She met Navarro’s heated gaze in the mirror. His penetrating gaze made her feel transparent. Or maybe that was because he’d made her come in glorious Technicolor and refused to take no as an answer. Either way, she felt more emotionally raw and exposed than she had in her life. Honey wasn’t sure what to make of that. How she felt emotional, it was too soon to tell, but physically. . . She was relaxed, and still buzzing with sexual energy.
She at least wore a sweater, just a sweater over her naked body, but he was still deliciously naked. She cleared her throat. “Are you going to get dressed before we land?”
He looked so sexy Honey wanted to walk him backward to the narrow bed and jump his bones again. Hair, ruffled from her fingers, begged to be smoothed. His mouth, like hers, flushed from kissing. The love bite on his right shoulder shocked her. She had no recollection of doing that. She shifted her body so she could get the full frontal view of him standing there as if he owned the Universe.
His penis, thick and curved against his flat belly was apparently not done with her.
“Yeah, eventually. You look like another woman. Now I know why legions of men fall at your feet in adoration.”
No one she knew had ever seen her in disguise—not and known it was her. Honey rolled her eyes at his nonsense. “They try to buy my love, but of course, my affections can’t be bought because I’m stupid rich.”
She sounded like the ultimate bored, rich bitch, a combination of WASP lockjaw and drawl. In fact, she sounded exactly like her mother. She must’ve studied Roxann more than she realized.
“This is true,” he agreed in a lazy tone.
“I have everything a woman could possibly want. In fact, I probably have ten of-” She waved an airy hand, gesturing with her mascara wand —“Whatever. Maybe a dozen. I have so many of everything, I’ve lost count.”
“I will not try to buy your affection with paltry gifts, I promise.”
“I’ll never know if you’re having sex with me for the expensive gifts I’d give
you
.”
“Like what?” His eyes lit up. “A yellow Bugatti-Veyron?”
She lifted a brow. “That goes for what? A couple of mil?” She considered him from top to penis, for a second before meeting his amused gaze. “You’re very good in bed. Maybe two.”
“What would a man do with two? Can I trade one for a Vacheron Constantine? They run about a mil and half.”
“A million and a half dollars for a
watch
? You’ve got to be kidding me!” Although she really could buy him all those toys and more, her pose as a languid, jaded socialite went right out the window. “Can it tell you when your oxygen is running out? I don’t think so. Can it be used to—?”
He dipped his head, taking her mouth in a kiss that stole her breath and made her heart go from zero to sixty in half a second. “Okay,” she murmured, blinking him back into focus when he lifted his mouth from hers. “A Bugatti
and
a watch. You’re worth at least that.”
“Damn, you’re very generous. Do you treat all your lovers this well?”
“Of course. I have no favorites. Little gifts to keep them sweet so they don’t notice that I’m cruel and have no heart. I’m an Ice Princess, remember? I freeze my ex-lovers when they bore me.”
“It saves you from breaking their hearts. A quick and merciful death instead of being spurned by you wou—”
She smiled.
“Spurned?”
The smile slipped from his mouth, and he gave her a far too serious look as he brushed her cheek with his fingertips. “I’ll make sure to keep you entertained.”
Feeling unaccountably awkward, she stepped out of his arms. She couldn’t go far, as the sink was right behind her. She turned so her back was to him and met his eyes in the mirror.
I could fall in love with you, Rafael Navarro,
Honey thought, a familiar panicky feeling surging through her body. Just thinking it made her feel incredibly exposed and embarrassed for the first time in living memory. “You’re crowding me.”
Black eyes glittered. “You fascinate me.”
She attempted a cool look. “Yeah, well, we know how
that
turned out.”
“Remarkably well.”
His smile made Honey’s insides do a ridiculous happy dance. She felt as though she was a teenager with her first lover. Jittery and excited, embarrassed and eager to do it all over again. She tamped down the dangerous feeling. “Bully for you. Your reputation as the Spanish Stallion is fully intact.” As soon as she said it, Honey wished the words back. “I didn’t me-”
Apparently unoffended, Navarro’s smile widened.
My, what big teeth you have
. “And
yours
, I’m delighted to say, is shot to hell.”
The glacier had thawed. Hell, he’d caused the polar ice caps to melt, and the frozen tundra burst into flower. “There’s no need to gloat.” She did her best to sound annoyed, but she felt too good to do a convincing job.
Grinning, he bracketed her hips with strong, sure hands, tugging her back against his still semi-erectness. “Best present anyone ever gave me.”
Pale eyes glowing, lips curved, she turned in the circle of his arms. Leaning into him, she lifted her face. “Mine, too.” Honey knew what she was feeling was the giddy rush of endorphins from multiple sexual releases. Knew it and for just this sliver of time, didn’t give a damn. She was happy. Euphoric and crazy happy. Later would take care of itself. Nothing lasted forever. However, for now . . .
“What’s your greatest wish, Honey Winston?”
“Well, I just got that.”
“Other than your first mind blowing orgasm.”
“Seriously? I’ve never told a single soul this. I want to be a real girl.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “A real girl? You feel very real to me.”
“You know how Pinocchio wanted to be a real boy? Well I always wanted to be a real girl. Not a dress up doll taken out for photo ops.” She stroked a path down the crisp dark hair on his chest. Then lifted her eyes to meet his.
“I was painfully shy as a kid. They’d dress me up, parade me out there like a fashion doll for photo ops. Their perfect little princess. Then, of course, it was inevitable that I couldn’t answer questions or say anything suitably cute because the whole time I was wishing with all my heart that either the ground would open up and swallow me or the monster under my bed would race into the garden and eat everybody.”
She waited for him to say “Aw, poor little rich girl”, but he didn’t. “They’d get furious because I refused to perform for the press like a trained monkey. The problem was, to please them, I would’ve done
anything
, I just wasn’t capable of being what they wanted. The harder they pushed, the more withdrawn I became. My painful shyness annoyed the shit out of them, they took it as an insult to their fabulous, gregarious, spotlight loving DNA.”
“My parents were so in your face that I retreated, and it became easier not to show emotion when they seem to suck life right out of a room.”
“You show emotion.”
“For analysis and intelligence, but I’m terrible with people And sometimes, I’m not sure I have it in me to feel it, either. There’s something wrong with me, I think.”
“There’s not a damned thing wrong with you. You just need reprogramming.”
She smiled, spreading her fingers over his hard pectoral muscle so she could feel his heart. “I’m not sure that’s possible.” A couple of great climaxes didn’t make her something she was not. She deflected by kissing his chin, then saying against his mouth, “What’s
your
biggest wish?”
“Right now? That we share another screaming O.”
“Twenty minutes to touchdown,” Blinston announced over the PA, making her start slightly, something she wouldn’t normally have done. Damn it, Navarro had cast some sort of sensual spell over her. Honey glided a finger over his parted lips as if her body was functioning independently from her brain.
“Do you think . . . ?”
“I’d rather wait for a nice wide bed and more time.”
Thank God, one of them had some sense. She wished it had been her. “Got it. Move, Navarro,” she gave him a firm shove with one hand. “I have to finish getting ready.”
He obediently stepped back, meeting her eyes in the mirror when she turned around. “You look ready for anything to me.”