More Than Strangers (4 page)

She may be inexperienced, but he would never describe her as a delicate flower. He shifted back before pushing deeper. She made a muffled sound that was both a protest and an encouragement. He repeated the motion and gained another quarter inch. She unclasped her legs and spread them wider.

He pulled out until just his head was inside her before burying himself to the hilt. With great difficulty, he remained still and waited for her to adjust to his size.

An eternity seemed to pass before she tightened around him and moaned. “Do it again.” It was all the encouragement he needed.

The steady rhythm he set soon made her writhe. Sliding into her became easier with each motion, until he could move hard and fast.

The momentum sent her head back against the wall. Her eyes opened. Their gazes met. Her lips parted as if to make a silent request. Her lashes fluttered like moth wings when he angled his thrust upward so that the ridge of his shaft brushed her clit.

“Jason—”

This wasn’t the time for words. Now that he found the sweet spot, he no longer needed to hold back. He quickened his assault, driving toward a rhythm that made his heart race as sweat dampened his temples. Her soft moans morphed into sharp pleas as he drove inexorably into her tight flesh. Moisture gathered between their bodies despite the room’s lower temperature. He felt the pressure inside him build until he felt as if he were about to explode.

“I’m about to come,” she whispered as she buried her face against his shoulder. Her hands stopped clawing his back and clenched into fists. Her legs clamped hard against his torso. Her entire body shook as her hips jerked in a frenzy to meet his thrusts. Her teeth bit hard enough to bruise, the same moment he felt her inner muscles clench in a sudden flurry.

He shoved her hard against the wall as his hips jackhammered. The controlled rhythm disintegrated into a frantic ramming as his body took what instinct demanded. He felt every muscle tense as a red haze covered his vision. He made an incoherent guttural sound before the dam broke and he lost all ability to think.

* * * *

“You really need to work on your post-sex meal choice,” Nulli commented as she popped a stuffed grape leaf into her mouth. It was salty, a little tart, and daintily portioned. She would rather have a big fat juicy burger. Considering her recent exertions, she’d already preburned more than enough calories.

Jason’s eyebrows lifted. His expression was a poor approximation of innocence, and she wasn’t fooled. She was showering when he placed the order. While she primped, he quickly washed up and was done by the time room service arrived. He had signed for the meal before she had a chance to discover the tray’s contents, or lack thereof.

He picked an Arabic meze knowing she would disapprove. She was certain of it. The serving size was on the extreme small end of the spectrum, and it was a sharing plate. They had eaten together enough times for him to know she wasn’t a finger food type of girl. “Why am I eating this instead of steak?”

In lieu of a sofa and armchairs, the suite had oversized pillows strewn over a wide ledge that abutted latticed windows. A portable rosewood table was to their side—equidistant and at an arm’s reach. The brass food platter took up the entirety of the small inlaid surface.

Conscious her shirtdress had a far from demure hemline, Nulli sat with her legs folded under her. On the other end of the ledge, Jason stretched his long limbs in her direction. Dressed in a short-sleeved button-down and linen khakis, with his hair glowing like amber under the orange lamplight, he was a dangerous dream she didn’t yet want to escape.

He nudged minuscule portions of halloumi cheese across the platter in her direction. “This is a good
pre-sex
meal choice. Too full and you’ll get sleepy.”

She patted her far from satisfied belly. “Hungry, and I’m not in the mood.”

His expression was cocky. “Even if you’re starving, I can make you beg in five minutes flat.”

She opened her mouth to argue before biting her tongue. He may well have the ability, and she didn’t want him to prove his point before she’d gotten more to eat. She looked at her plate. There were only a few pitted olives left. “You owe me strawberries at least.”

He didn’t move, so she continued with a threat. “You don’t want me to get hangry, do you?”

She managed to peak his curiosity. “What’s hangry?”

She pointed her index finger inward. “Hungry plus angry. Trust me, you don’t want me there.”

Laughing and shaking his head, he took the now empty plate and marched over to the suite’s bar. He disappeared behind the counter and emerged with a bowl of strawberries. He had a bottle of champagne in his other hand. Two stemmed glasses were laced through his fingers. “I thought I’d give you more time to recuperate, but since you insist—”

“Umm, I’m eating those before you get so much as a kiss.” She reached for the bowl, but he handed her the flutes instead. She pouted. “I’m starving.”

He put the strawberries on the small table. “And I’ll feed you.”

With a pop, he uncorked the champagne. Once he was done pouring, he set the bottle on the floor and took back both glasses. He placed them alongside the strawberries. “Just not yet.”

He lifted the portable table. With a pivot and a step, he moved it out of the way. She marveled at how he was able to execute the smooth motion that kept every item on the surface in place.

In response to her silent question, he explained, “I bussed tables to pay my living expenses in college. Two glasses and a bowl is nothing.”

She frowned. “I thought you had been in the military”

His answering smile was cryptic. “I was recruited later. I went to officer candidate school after I got my master’s.” She had a feeling there was more to the story but asking too many questions meant answering them in turn. She didn’t need to wait long for her prediction to come true.

“Tit for tat?” His voice made it clear this wasn’t a request.

Seeing no graceful way around a conversation, she nodded.

“Are your psycho ex-boyfriend and I the only two men you’ve slept with?”

Her instinct was to sidestep that line of inquiry. “Michael wasn’t a psycho.” His hang-ups about sex were a little weird, but he was otherwise well-adjusted. He now had the American dream—a wife, a kid, and a house with a white picket fence. All were acquired within two years of their breakup.

Nulli was self-aware enough to know it was her choices that ended their relationship. And she should have known better than to think Jason would accept her prevarication.

“But he was your first, and until now your only sexual partner.”

“Fine, he was. Why does it matter?” Her glare was a warning.

His tone was accusatory. “Because you’re practically a virgin. I never would have brought you here if—”

“I am well aware of that,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s why I omitted this minor detail. You have serious issues.”

One of his eyebrows rose. “I have issues?”

Her snort was far from elegant, but it got the point across. She counted off her fingers as she spoke. “You’re ambitious to a fault. The reason you don’t have serious relationships is because it’ll slow you down. You single out women who aren’t interested in anything beyond having a good time.”

He didn’t deny the accusation. “If I had stopped along the way I wouldn’t be where I am now. I’m still far from where I want to be. Most women want more than I can give.”

She cleared her throat and waited.

“Present company included.” He sounded exasperated and dead serious.

Her brows knitted. “Don’t be ridiculous. Men aren’t the only ones with career goals. I have somewhere I want to be, and you don’t fit into my plans any more than I fit into yours.”

His gaze was patronizing. “That doesn’t change the fact that you’ve only had sex with—”

Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Trust me, I’ve got plenty of experience. I may have only slept with one guy, but I had a
lot
of sex with him.”

He reached for one of the glasses of champagne and lifted a single brow. “How much is a lot?”

Realizing she had just painted herself into a corner, she muttered defensively, “More than enough. We were together for six years. There’s no need to get into specifics.”

Chuckling, he shook his head. “You’re the one who opened the door, sweetheart. You can’t back out know.”

She examined her nails and mumbled the answer under her breath.

He leaned in. “I don’t have Superman hearing. Come on, blurt it out.”

Nulli sighed. She might as well get this over with. “Several times a year, all right? Trust me, I’ve got the basics down.”

Jason’s head whipped to the side just before the champagne he was sipping spurted out of his mouth. He was then taken over by a fit of chortling coughs. She was tempted to grab the glass in his hand so she could dump the remaining contents on his head. Instead, she rose, grabbed some tissues, and dabbed away the mess. He was still laughing when she sat back down. She drummed her fingers on her thigh and waited.

He eventually regained composure. “Could you repeat that?”

At this point, drenching him with the entire bottle of Moët would be a more appropriate response. “Excuse me?”

“Your definition of ‘lots of sex.’ I just want to hear it one more time.” He followed the comment with a pitying look. The corners of her mouth threatened to curve up even as she focused on maintaining a stern expression. She should be angry, but his reaction was so comical it was difficult to keep a straight face.

She crossed her arms. “I don’t respond well to being laughed at.”

He shook his head and reached over to ruffle her hair. She ducked and sent him a death glare. His roguish smile widened. “Honey, you have no idea what lots of sex is. I mean, damn—you averaged less than once a month. Why did you stick with the asshole for that long?”

She had to bite down on her lower lip to keep from smiling. “It’s none of your business, but most of our relationship was long distance.”

He patted her knee. “You know what most people in long-distance relationships do? They hump like bunnies whenever they meet. Aside from eating and sleeping, all they do is have sex.”

“I’m completely certain you have never had a relationship of any sort, let alone a long-distance one,” she replied in an exaggeratedly patronizing tone.

He nodded. “That’s true. But if you were my girlfriend, and I hadn’t seen you in months, we wouldn’t stop fucking until I’d used up every last condom. ‘Several times a year’ would never be used in reference to our sex life.”

Nulli felt her cheeks burn. “I think we’ve exhausted this topic.

He wagged his finger. “Not quite yet. What exactly do you mean by ‘the basics’? Please don’t tell me you two never tried anything but missionary style.”

He hit the nail on the head. Nonetheless, she opened her mouth to protest. It was too late. The veracity of his words must have been written all over her face.

His eyes widened, his brows rose, and a second bout of laughter followed. Stifling a giggle, she grabbed one of the pillows and attempted to smack his head with it. He caught her wrist with a single hand and pulled. The momentum launched her straight into his arms.

“Poor innocent baby,” he murmured as he caught her by the waist. She was so close she could smell the champagne on his breath. “That must have been a boring six years. Why didn’t you end it sooner?”

Mesmerized by the blatant desire in his gaze, she couldn’t come up with anything but an honest answer. “Our egos got in the way. We didn’t want to admit we made the wrong choice. There was nothing there, but we kept at it until we hated each other. It was stupid, and I’ve learned from my mistakes. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Wariness colored his expression. “Are you sure you’ve thought this through?”

Fed up, she lifted her free hand and jabbed her finger into his chest. “I’m not some wilting Victorian debutante you need to protect. Don’t get all old-fashioned on me now. What I can or cannot handle is my call—in bed and out. If I’m not comfortable with something, I’ll say
kalaas
.”

“I can live with that.” Sensing the heat behind his words, she noticed the top two buttons of her shirtdress were undone. They were less than an inch apart, and she could draw a straight line from his eyes to her cleavage. She wasn’t certain if it was logic or lust that changed his mind, but the result was the same.

With an exasperated laugh, she shook her head. Men were so predictable.

“That’s a sudden gear shift. You should have told me all I needed to do was flash you. I could have avoided that awkward conversation altogether.”

His answering smile was a mix of chagrin and resignation. “If you knew how to use your assets, you’d be the death of me.”

She took a deep breath. Pride commanded she stay angry, but desire overruled ire. He had given her a taste of what he could do, and she wanted more. Sex made things simple. They needed to keep it that way.

Jason’s hand moved from the side of her waist to rest on her lower back. He exerted a slight pressure, and her chest flattened against his. Her tenuous hold on aggravation disintegrated. The pillow in her hand dropped, hit the ledge they were reclining on, and fell to the floor.

He released her wrist so he could grab a strawberry from the bowl on the table. He used the end to trace her lips. “Are you ready for me to feed you this?”

It was an innocuous statement, but there was a warning in his tone. Her lashes lowered. Her reply was a playful invitation. “What do I need to do for it?”

“Would you do anything I ask?” His question made her breath hitch.

She caught the fruit between her teeth. Shaking his head, he pulled it out of reach. She circled her tongue over her lips and was rewarded by tart sweetness. The large bulge against her belly hardened. The refreshing taste hadn’t been her only reward.

“Nulli…” Her name was a veiled threat.

She brushed a brief kiss against his jaw. “I’ll try.”

Rising with her, Jason pushed Nulli to her feet. “Take off your belt.”