Flights of Fantasy

Flights of Fantasy Mina Carter Kyla doesn’t think she’s ready to date yet. But when she’s seated next to Hollywood heartthrob Alex Richards on a long flight, she figures a fantasy or two can’t hurt. When the proverbial shit hits the fan at thirty thousand feet, she ends up in his lap like some crazy fangirl and flees in embarrassment the second the plane lands, losing a shoe in her haste. Then Alex turns up in the same hotel bar and invites her to his room to recover her wayward footwear. She doesn’t expect him to open the door half-naked—or have far more planned than just giving back her lost property. One night, one heartthrob, insatiable lust and years of fantasies to fulfill. Who says a girl can’t have her cake and eat it too?

Ellora’s Cave Publishing

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Flights of Fantasy ISBN 9781419936487 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Flights of Fantasy Copyright © 2011 Mina Carter Edited by Briana St. James Cover design by Syneca Model: Kevin Photography: Jasmine Brannon Electronic book publication November 2011 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book. The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or third-party Web sites or their content.

FLIGHTS OF FANTASY Mina Carter

Flights of Fantasy

Chapter One “Fuck. No, not now. You can’t do this to me!” Kyla Anderson moaned in despair as she stood in the middle of checking in. The surge of foot traffic welled around her, the noise as people rushed to check in ignored as she stared at the object in her hand. In the last year, she’d been through a messy divorce, lost her home, most of her self-confidence… Now her Kindle was dead. “Please, baby, come back to me.” Her tone held a begging note as she waggled the device, hoping beyond hope for a glimmer of life. Its screen remained stubbornly blank. “Please? I promise to treat you right and not let you run out of charge. I’ll even buy you a fancy new cover. How about that?” The Kindle’s gray screen mocked her and her pathetic attempt to rebuild her life after Robert the rat. She sighed and fought the prickle of tears. Yet another thing she’d lost. The Kindle had been her constant support when things were bad at home. She’d had to hide money away from her ex and save to get one, but at least with it by her side she had been able to escape, slip into a thousand different worlds and be a thousand different characters as she read and lived their stories. She didn’t care who the characters were. All that mattered was escaping the misery of her marriage and the trap she was in. But that was all over now. She was a free woman. More than that, she was the one in charge. After years trying and being ridiculed by Robert for her dreams, she’d finally done it. She was a published author. A best-selling published author on her way to her first book signing. And an unexpected inheritance ensured she could concentrate on her new career rather than juggle it with the dead-end job she’d been in.

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So what did it matter that the reader had died? She could get another one. All she had to do was walk into a store and pick one up. She could even get one here, if she wanted. No asking for money from Robert, not ever again. Head high, she tucked the dead Kindle into her bag and approached the desk to check in. The airline was efficient. Clearing security, she walked through into the departures lounge and parked herself near one of the information screens. Apprehension started to mount. A fine shimmer moved through her veins like the bubbles in good champagne. She hated flying. Well, okay, hated was a bit strong. She disliked flying, which was why she’d packed her Kindle to the brim for the flights. When she read, she blocked everything else out to concentrate on the story. A coping mechanism from her life with Robert and one that would help her on the two flights she had to take to get to the book signing. Trust her to live on the opposite side of the country. Casting a glance out the windows that made up one wall of the lounge, she spied the behemoths lurking outside. Men and women scurried around them, operating trucks and ladders as the planes were loaded. Panic coalesced in her chest and clamped a hard hand around her stomach. She couldn’t do this, not without something to read. Giving in to the inevitable, she stood with a sigh and went to look for a bookstore or kiosk.

***** A paperback clutched in her hand, Kyla boarded the plane in plenty of time. She hated to be late. Absolutely loathed and detested it. Even the thought of it made her ill. If anything, she made sure to be five minutes early to avoid that clawing feeling of panic. Academically she was aware that what her ex-husband had referred to as “pickiness” was probably more along the lines of a psychological problem. She twisted her lips into a wry line as she was shown to her seat. If it was a mental problem, it would have to get in line behind all the rest. She had issues with self-confidence, self-

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worth and body image to deal with first. She could live with the need to be early for appointments. Settling in, she arranged herself neatly. To her surprise, the seats were more comfortable and roomy than she’d expected. But then again, this was business class, a rare treat she allowed herself from the money she’d been left. She’d only ever flown economy before, crammed in with other holidaymakers until they resembled sardines. Ten minutes later, the novelty of the roomy seats had worn off. Claustrophobia warred with her fear of flying as she looked around for an attendant. Everyone seemed to be on the plane so what could be taking so long? Was there a problem with the plane? The thought took hold and turned her dislike of flying into full-on panic. She knew it. The wings were going to fall off. A blue-suited attendant appeared at the front of the cabin, her pleasant and professional smile designed to put nervous passengers at ease. Before Kyla could open her mouth, a female passenger nearer the front of the cabin spoke. “Excuse me, miss, but is everything okay?” The attendant smiled reassuringly as she walked down the aisle, her gaze sharp as she checked for unstowed luggage. “Yes ma’am, everything’s fine. I’m sorry for the delay, but we had a late check-in. Ah…sounds like he’s here now. I do apologize, there should have been an announcement.” She cast a glance over her shoulder at movement near the back of the cabin. “We should be taking off shortly.” At the mention of a late check-in, all Kyla’s nerves disappeared, to be replaced by irritation. There wasn’t a problem with the plane after all, instead she and her fellow passengers were simply victims of someone else’s lax attitude and lack of consideration for others. Lips compressed into a disapproving line, she watched the commotion at the front of the cabin. The way the attendants were primping and preening, twittering about like blonde bimbos, anyone would think the cream of Hollywood was about to board. 7

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“Great. Just friggin’ great.” Her panic starting to recede, she grabbed her book. She let her fingers drift through the pages. It had been so long since she’d read a physical book that she’d forgotten what a wonderfully tactile experience it was. The crinkle of the cover, the waft of the pages and that “new book” smell. She flicked a glance at her purse, the dead Kindle hidden in its depths. So many books she’d planned to read… At least she’d managed to find something interesting in the book kiosk. After being told Kindles were out of stock she’d despaired, but thankfully they’d had a good selection of paperbacks to choose from. Turning the book over, she looked at the cover. Paranormal romance, so there was a ripped, naked-to-thewaist guy on the front with the requisite tattoo perched on his biceps. His rather nice biceps. Lick test! The voice of her partner in crime, Rya Stephens, filled her mind and forced a smile. Both authors, the two women spent hours debating the pros and cons of different leading men for their stories. Picking their victims from the ranks of Hollywood, no one was safe. “Good book?” The deep male voice slid along her skin like warm silk, raising the small hairs on the surface and caressing them with a lover’s touch. Startled, she looked up and fell into a gaze as blue-green as a tropical ocean. That wasn’t all that reminded her of the sea as her gaze wandered outward. Blond, longish hair fell casually around his neck in a surfer’s cut, kissing the neckline of a black shirt pulled tight over solid muscles and broad shoulders. The hard lines and planes of his features lent him a masculine beauty. A familiar beauty, one she’d seen…and lusted over…many times on the silver screen. Alex Richards, heartthrob and action-hero extraordinaire, stood right in front of her. Kyla’s ability to breathe hightailed it over the horizon along with her logical thought processes. Alex Richards. Here. All six foot ripped gorgeousness of him within touching distance…within nibbling distance. 8

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She whimpered as the book dropped from her hand. Gleefully, it bounced off the arm of her chair and made like a lemming for the floor. Cheeks aflame, she made a grab for it the same moment Alex did. Their hands, then their heads, collided with a crack. “Ouch!” She pulled back and rubbed her forehead ruefully as Alex chased down the wayward book. Oh fuck, she’d met Alex Richards. And head-butted him. “Someone shoot me now…” she muttered to herself and raised her voice to apologize. “I really am sorry, Mr. Richards. I didn’t expect you to grab it too.” He stood, book in one hand as the other rubbed at his head. The movement did nothing but artfully tousle his blond hair. Hair she’d give anything to drive her hands into as she reached up to kiss his full lip… Stop that right now, young lady. No fantasies while on the plane. “No problem. And it’s Alex,” he corrected her firmly. “Your book….” She knew the trailing off was a hint to give her name. Of course she knew that. Did she give her name? No. “Thanks, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” Grabbing the book back, she sat on it so it couldn’t cause any more trouble. “I’m not normally this clumsy.” Or prattle on this much, she added silently. His expression was somewhere between confused and amused, his lips quirking at the corner. “A lady of mystery. How intriguing.” As she watched, he twisted and slid the pack off his back. Then she was nose to skin with his entirely lickable six-pack abs as he stowed the bag in the overhead compartment. Panic froze her in place, unable to do anything but look as his t-shirt lifted, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of skin to her interested perusal. Oh my god, those jeans were low-slung. Fire filled her cheeks as she got a glimpse of the edge of a tattoo low on his stomach. An uncomfortable heat raced around her body, making her skin tingle and her breasts ache. Neither compared to the sudden, savage throbbing between her thighs. How long was it since she’d had sex? Too long.

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The skin between her shoulder blades prickled. He was still looking at her. Resisting the urge to hide her flame-red face behind the covers of her book, she looked up. Thank god he couldn’t read her mind. He was twenty-eight, so she had a decade on him. He was young and gorgeous. He could have any woman he wanted, including any of the flight attendants by the look of it. The last thing he’d want would be a thirtysomething author lusting after him. “Yes…can I help you?” she asked when he didn’t move. “Yeah…” He flashed a rueful grin. “Actually, there seems to be some mix-up. You’re sitting in my seat.” Kyla paled as the blood drained from her face. Could today get any worse?

***** Alex Richards was sitting next to her. An hour later Kyla was still trying to come to terms with that and the fact that the most gorgeous man in Hollywood was sitting next to her. He was napping, but she was in touching distance of Alex Richards. The smile that had been threatening to break loose since she’d moved across a seat spread across her lips. Sure, the move meant she had to sit next to the hated window, but it was a small price to pay. Just wait until Rya heard about this; she’d be spitting feathers for a week! With nothing else to do, she sat and started to read. If one word in ten filtered through her crazed fangirl brain, she was lucky. Four chapters in, all she knew was that the guy was a vampire—no surprise there then—and the girl was leading him a merry chase with a sassy tongue and some supernatural abilities Kyla really hoped were going to be explained later on in the book. Still out at sea on the actual plot thanks to her inability to concentrate, she found the first sex scene and settled down to read. This was an area her editor had told her to study and read more on. Apparently her sex scenes needed a little more “punch”. Kyla wasn’t surprised. Write what you know, they said. She wasn’t sure how that worked

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with vamps and alien beings unless the world as a whole was keeping some really big secrets, but sex? That she should…could write. The trouble was that she hadn’t had it in god knew how long. Not many guys were interested in a shy, curvy divorcée whose idea of a good time was a night in with a tub of Ben and Jerry’s and the latest action film. She’d just have to settle for reading and glean information that way. Ten minutes later, she was wiggling in her seat, a flush mounting on her cheeks. Lord, this author really knew what they were doing in the bedroom. The scene was scorching, a loving dominance scene where the hot hero took control and gave the lucky heroine exactly what she wanted and then some. Automatically, her mind started to “cast” the roles. Within a hot second, it latched on to Alex, half-reclined next to her, as the leading man. From there it was a small leap to imagine herself in his arms. Suppressing a whimper, she pressed her legs together and tried to calm down. Seven times table, backward. Pink bunnies. Cute puppies. She tried every nonsexual thought she could to avoid the erotic scene currently playing in her head. What it would feel like if he turned over, lifted the armrest between them and gathered her into his arms. “Excuse me, I need… Ladies’ room,” she managed to blurt out, her voice entirely too breathy and seductive for her liking. She might be thinking it, but if he thought she was making a pass at him, Kyla would just die. “Mr. Richards, can you move your legs a little, please?” The seats that had seemed so spacious before now seemed tiny and cramped as he grunted and shifted his legs a little. Not nearly enough for her peace of mind, but she didn’t care. All but scrambling over his lap, she escaped into the blessed safety of the aisle and bolted up the walkway toward the toilets.

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Chapter Two She made it to the toilets in record time, almost flattening one of the flight attendants en route. The woman had stepped neatly aside at the panicked look on Kyla’s face, correctly guessing her destination. No doubt they had a lot of passengers who took ill on a flight. Kyla wasn’t ill, but she did breathe a sigh of relief as she reached the sanctuary of the small cubicle and locked herself safely in. If she’d had to sit next to Alex one more second after reading that scene… Well, she couldn’t be held responsible for her actions. Dropping the seat, she collapsed onto it with a groan. The erotic images from the book just wouldn’t leave her alone. Then her imagination got in on the act. Image after image of her and Alex burned themselves into the back of her retinas. She pressed her thighs together, trying to ease the savage ache between them. A helpless moan escaped her lips. It was no good, she felt as if her whole body was on fire. Her hips rocked slightly, her body trying to find some ease as her mind replayed the scene she’d just read. Unable to resist, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. In her mind’s eye, she was naked and spread-eagled on a bed with silken sheets. More silk, in the form of soft cords, bound her hand and foot. The restraints left her totally open to anything the man walking toward her wanted to do. What Alex wanted to do… She whimpered and clamped her hand between her thighs, pressing her fingers hard over the seam of her pants and against her throbbing clit in the hope of some kind of relief. Pleasure rolled through her system and the small cubicle around her ceased to exist. Instinctively she pressed harder as the fantasy took over. He reached the end of the bed and looked down, the heat in his eyes hot enough to burn the skin from her body. She shivered, reading the erotic intent in his eyes. He’d 12

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told her all the things he wanted to do to her when he’d tied her to the bed, arranging her body in the best position for his plans. Reaching out, he stroked a finger along the inside of her ankle. The answering shiver crawled its way up her skin and wrapped around her body, extending its long fingers down to her clit. The small button nestled between the slick folds of her pussy tightened another notch. “You’re gorgeous. So pink and wet.” His desire-roughened voice fit the fantasy perfectly as he lifted a knee to crawl onto the bed. She jumped a little and bit her lip as his hot lips caressed the skin above her ankle. A rush of liquid heat bathed her pussy as he kissed up the inside of her leg. Spread like this, she was at his mercy. There was nothing she could do to stop him. If she wanted to stop him. He reached her knee and his tongue snaked out, hot and wet, flicking over the sensitive skin behind the joint. She moaned, unable to hide her mounting excitement. Chuckling deep in his throat, he moved on to her thigh. Her hips jerked in small movements as he took his sweet time tasting the delicate skin of her inner thigh. Her clit throbbed and pulsed, so tight it was almost painful. With each kiss, he drew closer. Each butterfly kiss had her cunt clenching tight in anticipation. Each hot brush of his tongue drew a fresh wave of need. Pulling on her bound wrists, she looked down her body, but he was already there. His blond hair was the only thing visible as he settled between her spread thighs. Bound as she was, she couldn’t move her arms and legs. All she could do was hold still as his hot breath washed over the eager lips of her pussy. He had to…she needed… “Aiieeee…” Her breath escaped in a drawn-out combination of a squeak and a moan as he parted her lower lips with a decisive sweep of his tongue. No warning. No exploratory pass, just straight into the action as he located her clit and drew circles around it with the tip of his tongue.

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Rumbling approval, he pulled the little bud between his lips and sucked. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as pleasure hit her hard, fizzing through her system like champagne. He licked and sucked, toying with her clit, alternating between suckling her until she thought she’d die from pleasure, then using long, slow licks from slit to clit. Then, when she thought he couldn’t tease her any more, he moved and stabbed his tongue deep into her pussy. Her hips came off the bed as he fucked her with his tongue. She whimpered, a small step from begging, but unable to stop herself. What he was doing, the pleasure coursing through her body, was amazing…but she needed more. Far more. She needed filling, needed his cock inside her. He moaned again, pulling his tongue from her and sliding it back up to her clit in a long, hot sweep. She pouted, disappointment filling her. She didn’t have to wait long. Within a heartbeat, his long fingers pressed against her, two of them pushing into her hot, slick cunt. She groaned, clenching around his fingers as she rode his tongue. The heat and tightness in her body had settled, centering in her pussy. Each thrust and lick wound the tension higher, like a spring. She mangled her lip again, trying to hold her moans inside. Her release loomed, the pleasure-filled abyss opening before her. Any moment now, just one more lick or stroke, and she’d fall headlong into it… A sudden rap on the door made her jump. A voice issued from the other side. “Ma’am, are you okay in there?” She froze. The fantasy disappeared like a bursting bubble, leaving her hot and bothered. She snatched her hand from between her legs. Oh my God. She was sitting on the plane toilet dry-humping her own damn fingers. What the fuck was wrong with her?

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“Ma’am? Can you hear me?” The attendant’s voice was pleasantly calm, but even so, a note of “there’s something wrong here” was beginning to creep in. The handle jiggled as it was tried from the other side. “Tony, can you give me hand, please?” The voice was muffled, but was undoubtedly the same woman calling for assistance. Kyla sat up straight, then stood up quickly. Crap, the last thing she needed was for them to break the door down. Just one look at her would inform anyone what she’d been up to. Desperate, she grabbed some toweling and scrubbed at her face. Her voice was high-pitched and strangled as she answered, “Yes, yes. I’m fine. Thank you!” “Very well. Just so you’re aware, we’ll be landing shortly. So we need you to retake your seat.” Throwing the used paper towels into the trash, she opened the door and smiled at the attendant before scurrying back up the aisle. Alex was still lying down, one long leg thrust into the aisle. He must be tired to have gone back to sleep after the attendants made him put his seat upright for landing. She slowed as she approached, heat and awareness thrumming through her. She was going to have to climb over him again, but this time his legs were spread wide, the pose of the relaxed, but virile male. His head was rolled to the side, away from her, so she couldn’t see his face. The slight rumbling snore said he was fast asleep. Beyond him was the safety of her seat, her book closed and facedown on it. She frowned. She’d left it open at her page, hadn’t she? Shaking her head, she dismissed the thought and concentrated on Alex again. Great, what a friggin’ mess. She bit her lip as she tried to work out the best way to get back in her seat. Perhaps if she stepped between his thighs, one foot, then the other, transferring her weight? Yeah, that could work. Gathering her courage, she lifted her foot. He moved his legs. Swearing under her breath, she pulled back and reassessed her strategy. His legs were closer together now, not enough room for her to get a foot between them. She’d have to step over both at the 15

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same time and just hope she kept her balance. One wrong move would tumble her right into his lap. Biting her lip, she tried to remind herself why that was a bad thing and lifted her leg. Slowly, oh so slowly, she straddled him. Her support leg shook as she took her time putting her foot down. Relief flooded her as it touched down on the carpet the other side of his thighs. Why did men have to sprawl out when they slept anyway? It was so damn messy and inconsiderate. The irritation flushed away her embarrassment and Kyla went to lift her other leg. Just a little more and she could fall into her seat. Mission accomplished with speed, if not dignity. It wasn’t to be. As soon as she transferred her weight, Alex moved, half turning in his sleep. His heavily muscled thigh pushed into hers. Her balance, precarious to begin with, disappeared and, with a squeak, she tumbled forward. Right into Alex’s lap. Strong hands closed around her waist, catching and holding her against his broad chest. Blue-green eyes looked up into hers, filled with amusement and something else. Kyla wriggled, and her eyes widened. His chest wasn’t the only hard thing about him. With her legs neatly folded either side of his hips, her core was pressed right against his groin and the fully erect, thick cock there. A gasp of surprise escaped her lips and his eyes darkened another notch. “From a lady of mystery to a delightful wake-up call. I could get used to this.”

***** The fates, bitches all of them, definitely had it in for her. Two hours later, she’d made it to her hotel, thankfully without incident or a further sighting of Alex. She’d chosen to sit alone in the bar, rather than alone in her room. This was the last time she traveled alone. At least a travel companion would have stopped her doing something as stupid as landing in Alex Richards’ lap.

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A glum expression on her face, Kyla played with her drink, stabbing at the ice cubes in the Rye and Dry with a cocktail stick. Normally her overactive imagination would have begun to weave a tale around the small blocks of ice, imagining little people on them. Whole civilizations living out their lives in a self-contained little world where their very survival depended on the way she swirled her drink. Okay, maybe she was a little weird. It made no difference. Tonight there were no little people, no grand epics spanning icy continents. Tonight all she could focus on was the fact she’d met the man she’d lusted over for years. Many times over the years she’d fantasized about what would happen if she did actually meet him. It would be at a premiere or swanky reception. She would be the epitome of charm and grace. He would, of course, fall instantly for her sparkling wit and intelligence…even in her fantasies, she had to be realistic. She was not model material. She’d met him and what had she done? Charmed him with her grace and witty repartee? God no. She’d clammed up, head-butted him and attacked him like some sort of crazed fangirl. Then, as if the first three weren’t enough, she’d grabbed her bags and fled without apologizing, even leaving one of her shoes caught in the seat in her haste. Luckily they’d already opened the doors so she could escape, hopping on one foot as she located a pair of sandals in her crowded carry-on. The shoe was a total loss. There was no way she could have gone back for it. Groaning, she stabbed the ice again. The ground could not create a hole deep enough to swallow her and her embarrassment. The bartender pushed a new drink in front of her. “I didn’t order another.” “The gentleman over there sent it over for you, with this.” A piece of folded blue paper appeared next to the full glass. Surprised, Kyla took it and sat up, looking around in the direction the bored-looking bartender indicated. Over on the other side of the hotel bar sat a small group of familiar-looking men. She caught

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her breath. It was like a Who’s Who of Hollywood male talent. Something that wasn’t lost on the other women in the bar. Most were preening and trying to attract attention from the group of actors. As Kyla watched, one slid a phone out of her purse and headed over, determination in every line of her body. The ring of bodyguards around them prevented her getting anywhere near. A quiet chat later and she was dispatched back to her table. The men in question were oblivious, too busy talking between themselves and drinking. Apart from one. A very familiar figure sat in the middle, his attention squarely on Kyla. Alex. As she looked at him, his lips quirked and he lifted his glass in acknowledgment. She flipped the note open and read. Found, One slipper. Needed, One princess. Will you be my Cinderella? Room 405. He had invited her to his room. Kyla’s vision swam and she almost fell off the stool. His room. Oh my. Blinking to clear her vision, she read the note, then flipped it over to make sure there was nothing else written on it. Something like, “Gotcha! Not really. I’ve left your shoe at reception.” Nothing. The back of the note was blank. He had invited her to his room. Nerves and excitement attacked in the same moment, her body their battlefield. She had no illusions about what was going to happen when she got to his room. Men did not invite random women they’d just met to their rooms without a very specific goal in mind. Why her, though? Curiously, she looked around the room. There were younger and skinnier women in here, all eager for a chance with the hot young actor. Why pick her? Why the fuck are you arguing? Now that was definitely Rya’s voice screaming in her ear… Don’t analyze, just go for it! Obeying her inner woman—and Rya—she looked back over and caught his eye. Nodding, she downed the drink in one go and slid off her stool. Note and purse in

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hand, she sauntered out of the bar with a previously undiscovered elegance and calmness.

***** Room 401…402…403… Kyla read the numbers on the doors as she walked down the corridor. She was on the upper floor and these were all luxury suites. She was in one of the smaller rooms a couple of floors below. It didn’t bother her. Because she’d been late booking and couldn’t get connecting flights, the publisher had arranged a stopover. Since it was late at night, she’d only intended to sleep in the room, so she didn’t much care about the size. His room was a completely different matter. She hoped there would be a lot more going on than sleeping. Hubba-hubba. 405. She was here. Standing in front of the door, she gave herself a quick once-over. She’d raced up to her room and showered after leaving the bar. Luckily, she’d had her legs waxed and had done some other preening before the trip, so all she had to do was fix her hair and makeup. Minimal makeup, little more than a sweep of eyeliner and mascara and a dab of lip gloss. Robert hadn’t liked her to wear any at all. More, she suspected, so other men didn’t notice her rather than for his own preferences. He’d sure liked her to slap it on when they were dating. Grimly, she shook herself out of her memories and stepped back to check her reflection in the mirror at the end of the hall. White button-down shirt, jeans and leather sandals. Her dark hair was loose and curled around her neck. Casual chic. She’d debated over the little black dress she’d packed, just in case, but decided it was too over the top. Knowing her luck, she’d roll up dolled up to the nines and he’d just give her the shoe back. Dressed casually, but with sexy lingerie underneath, she was prepared for anything.

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Her lips curled into a smirk. She should’ve been a Boy Scout. She lifted her hand to knock but the door opened before her knuckles could connect. Alex stood in front of her. Black dress shirt loose and unbuttoned all the way, he leaned in the doorway with his arms above his head. Kyla opened her mouth, then shut it again, unable to take her eyes off his toned chest and abdomen. “Hey, princess, my eyes are up here.” Kyla closed her eyes for a second as heat flared in her cheeks again. She’d never had a problem with blushing before, but the way she was going, Alex would think her complexion was permanently pink. “Isn’t that supposed to be the woman’s line?” From somewhere, she managed to claw back enough sanity to frame a reply. Instantly she felt better. This was an area she could compete in. Witty banter didn’t rely on looks, grace or a figure like a stick insect. His gaze dropped to her ample bust, highlighted rather than concealed by the white shirt, and the green-blue of his eyes darkened to the color of a storm-driven ocean. Just for a second, then he visibly pulled himself together and smiled. “I’m more than happy for you to have it back. I’m glad you came.” He pushed off the door and stood aside to motion her into the room. Hardly able to believe this was happening, she took a deep breath and walked past him. “Me too. I really like those shoes.” Her footsteps faltered a few steps in and she forgot all about witty comments. Screw luxury, this was something else. Sumptuous furnishings, the latest in electronic gadgets and a view… She whistled between her teeth and headed over to the window. The city was lit up for the night and spread out on display below them. “Oh my, that’s beautiful.” “I agree.”

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His voice whispered by her ear, making Kyla jump. He’d moved so silently, she hadn’t heard him approach. His breath whispered along the sensitive skin at her throat. Suddenly the view was the last thing on her mind. All her attention had been hijacked by the man behind her. “I can see why you stay here, with this.” “I wasn’t talking about the view.”

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Chapter Three His hands slid around her waist and pulled her back against the solid planes of his chest. She murmured in…pleasure…anticipation? Whatever, she wasn’t sure and, right at the moment, really didn’t care. All that mattered was that he was touching her. That this hadn’t been a joke and she hadn’t made a total idiot of herself. “I’m so sorry about the plane.” She had to get that out before they started. Her gaze flicked to an open doorway and the bedroom beyond. The bed was huge. Plenty of room. Her cheeks went for the lobster look again. “I overbalanced and…” “Shhhh.” His tone was firm as he turned her around to face him. His eyes danced with amusement. “I have a confession to make.” She tilted her head. “Oh?” “I wasn’t asleep.” She gaped at him. “So you?” He’d been awake all the time as she tried to clamber over him. “And you?” Just let her do it. “Why? You could have moved.” “I did. And got a right nice lapful.” He grinned, unrepentant, heat flaring in his eyes. Realization hit her. He’d deliberately knocked her off balance so she’d end up in his lap. With her…pressed against his cock. His very erect cock. Had he been as hot for her as she had for him? “But…? I mean, why? I’m a little…older?” The maddeningly little smile played at the corners of his lips again, making the mole by his top lip dance as he leaned down. This was it, Alex Richards was finally 22

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going to kiss her. She didn’t know whether she was going to pass out from anticipation or free herself rush to find her laptop and crow to Rya. Neither, her body firmly decided as it melted against the hardness of his. She damn well deserved this kiss. “Because I think you’re beautiful. As soon as I saw you on the plane and you looked over that book. All stern and…” He shivered as his words trailed off. His hand across the back of her hips, he pulled her against his. The thick ridge of his cock pressed hard into her soft belly. Fire raced through her body as if electricity trying to go to ground through her. It didn’t get that far, the heat pooling in her groin as her cunt clenched hard around nothingness. She wanted to feel that cock inside her, every thick inch of it. “Age is just a number, princess. But if you want to play numbers, I have a favorite we can try later.” She could just guess what that was and couldn’t have framed a sensible response if her life depended on it. Her gaze latched on to his mouth with longing. Her fingers mangled his silk shirt as he bent his head. His lips, soft and warm, brushed hers. An exploratory caress as he traced along them. Pleasure assaulted her, spiraling out from her lips to fill every cell in her body. She’d expected him to be brash and overconfident. She remembered dating in her twenties, but none of her boyfriends had shown half the finesse Alex did as he slid a hand onto the nape of her neck to tilt her head. A low, sensual rumble emanated from his chest. He crowded closer, wrapping himself around her as he swept his tongue along her lower lip. Silently she obeyed the command, opening up for him on a small whimper. She couldn’t do anything else. She still couldn’t believe this was happening, sure it was a dream. She’d never had such a vivid and detailed dream before. If it was a dream, she didn’t care. It damn well felt real enough to her. Just as long as she didn’t wake up before the crucial moment.

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He nibbled her lower lip, not plunging in to conquer right away. His large hand swept the curve of her back and onto her waist, but he didn’t grope or paw her. Instead, he treated her like a treasure, a delicate treat that was his and his alone. One he intended to savor. Just the thought of him savoring her made her pussy clench savagely as liquid heat slipped from her and dampened her panties. His hand left her waist, joining the other as he cupped her face. Only then did he claim her mouth fully, his tongue sliding past her lips to stroke along hers. He nibbled her lips, tantalizing and teasing her. Daring her to join him in the sensual duel. She responded instinctively, pressing against him with a whimper. Open to anything he wanted. She didn’t care. All that mattered was that he kept kissing her as if she was the only woman in the world. His kiss turned dominant. Crushing her lips under his, he took what he wanted, but gave so much pleasure in return. The kiss was never-ending and over too soon. He tore his mouth from hers to rest his forehead against hers, his breathing heavy and ragged. “I want you,” he whispered, pressing kisses against her temple and starting to work his way down her neck. “I can’t wait, princess. Don’t make me wait.” With a failed marriage behind her, Kyla was no innocent. A smile curved her lips as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders. A sigh of pleasure crossed her lips as she ran her hands over his muscled shoulders. His skin was like satin over steel. Such a clichéd expression made her smile, but it was the only way to describe him. Leaning in, she pressed her lips to the curve of his shoulder and breathed in deeply. The smell of citrus shower gel and the clean scent of the aftershave filled her lungs. Under it all was another scent—deep, musky and utterly captivating. His smell, the smell of Alex Richards himself. If she could bottle it, she’d make a damn fortune. If she could actually bear to part with the stuff and not hoard it all for herself. Trailing kisses down his chest, she traced the outline of a tattoo, then flicked her tongue over his nipple. “Then don’t wait.” 24

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He gasped at the touch of her tongue, his hand bunching in her hair. “I can wait if you do more of that.” “Do what?” A sense of mischief filled her. He was young, she wasn’t. With age came experience, lots of experience. She flicked his nipple again. “This?” A rumbling growl was her only answer. Grinning to herself, she laved his nipple with her tongue, then suckled it gently. He swore. His head dropped back and his hand in her hair held her right where she was. Taking that as a cue, she nipped gently. “Fuck me, you’re good.” She sucked once more and started to move down his body, trailing kisses over his toned abs. As she went, she couldn’t resist the smallest lick. Triumph filled her. There, she could tell Rya she had done the lick test and, dayum, it was good! “Oh honey, it’s about to get a whole lot better.” Her voice was filled with throaty promise as she slid to her knees. He started in shock, his hand sliding through her hair as he looked down. She almost laughed at the look of surprise on his face. Almost. The deep need and longing in his eyes tugged at her heartstrings. “Princess? You don’t have to do that—” She looked up, feral pride running through her. She might never grace a catwalk or join him on set, but this…this she could do. And she was damn good at it. “Shut up, I want to.” Amazingly, Alex Richards, famous for his silver tongue, was lost for words as she started to undo his belt buckle. She didn’t just go for it, though. That would be no fun. Instead, she teased the thick length of his cock under the black denim. Kissing along it as she pulled the buckle free. Grazing him with her teeth, she started to pop the buttons holding him captive, one by one. The torrent of curses grew in strength and volume. His hands returned to her hair, not to hold her in place as she’d expected, instead it seemed as if he couldn’t resist

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touching her. He drew his hands through her hair in feather-soft strokes, then ran his fingertips down her cheek. The last button gave. Kyla giggled, a combined sound of amusement and delight. He’d gone commando. “Who’s a naughty boy, then?” A shiver ran the length of his body as she explored him with her hands. He was long and thick. Thicker than Robert or any of her lovers before him. Squirming, she didn’t think that would be a problem. Her panties were soaked through. “If I admit it, will you punish me?” His voice was still the deep, husky sex-on-a-stick one she recalled from his movies, but this time there was a new note in it. One of strain and iron control about to snap. Lord help her, she wanted to see what happened when that control gave. “You’d better believe it, sweetheart.” She leaned forward and licked the broad head of his cock. His flavor—musk, a hint of salt and that taste that was pure Alex—exploded onto her tongue. Just the taste had her teetering on the edge. She’d never really liked sucking cock before. She’d only done it to keep Robert happy or when she’d wanted something. Now, for him, she could really get into it. He groaned and his hands tightened in her hair. Humming in the back of her throat, she wrapped her lips around his cock and took him deep into her mouth. “Fuck, that’s good!” She continued to hum, mostly in pleasure and partly because she’d been told it felt good when she did. She slid the thick, veined shaft as deep as she could without triggering the gag reflex and started to pull back, sucking as she went. His cock jerked in her mouth, the big vein on the underside pulsing over her tongue. She smiled around him. It felt as if he was enjoying it. Sounded like it too. Without mercy, she worked him with her mouth and lips, using all the tricks she’d learned over the years until his breathing was ragged and his legs trembled.

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“Princess, that’s it.” He pulled lightly on her hair to get her attention. She released his cock with a soft pop and let him pull her to her feet. He was taller than her, so she met him halfway, rising on tiptoe so he could claim her lips again. This time his kiss held the edge of desperation. Holding her tight with his cock pressed against her soft belly, he kissed her until she lost all reason and sense of time. Until her world became this room and his lips on hers. A shiver hit her as he slid his tongue along hers in a sensual duel, then lifted his head. His eyes were dark, and the expression as he looked at her caused a fresh wave of liquid to dampen her panties. She pressed her thighs together to ease the ache between them. “Bed. Now.” The order was rough, his voice harsh, but she didn’t care. Taking his hand, she turned toward the open door. Her legs shook a little as she led him through to the bed. Normally she was the passive one, letting her partner lead the action. And look where that had gotten her… Divorced before she was forty. She still wasn’t sure this wasn’t just a dream, but what the hell? It was time she started taking responsibility and getting what she wanted. He tugged on her hand as they reached the bed, turning her to face him. The heat in his gaze made her entire body tingle, the ache in her pussy intensifying until she had to bite her lip to smother her moan. Her clothes were too tight, scratching her oversensitive skin as she watched him. Shirt discarded on the floor in the other room, he hadn’t bothered to put himself away, his cock proudly jutting toward her. She licked her lips at the sight, which earned her another groan. “Come here.” He pulled her toward him, but not into his arms. Instead, he started to unbutton her shirt. His eyes didn’t leave hers as he slid long, sensual fingers under each button and

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popped it free. Each time his fingers brushed her skin, she shivered. Unable to handle the heat in his gaze, she dropped her head back and closed her eyes. “No, watch me. I want to see what I’m doing to you in your eyes.” His voice was throaty and almost unrecognizable. With wonder, she lifted her head. Did she have that much effect on him? He parted the front of her shirt. His jaw clenched, sudden fire in his eyes. “Fuck me, you’re perfect.” She felt perfect, watching his face as he spread a large hand over her cleavage, cupping her throat before sliding down, his fingers outspread. Good job he had large hands, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to span her bust, touching her from nipple to nipple. As if on command, the tight buds tightened further, aching for more of his touch. Her shirt hit the floor. His hands smoothed up her arms, hooking under the straps on her shoulders. She bit her lip, body tense with anticipation as he slid the narrow straps slowly down her arms. She arched her back, displaying herself to him, for him. Robert had liked to paw at her tits, but Alex treated her like fine china. His long fingers flirted with the sides of the bra, tracing the line of the lace, stroking gently over the satin cups. He followed the top line of a cup with a fingertip, the tiny touch driving her almost out of her mind. Her breath came in small pants as he slid that finger under the clasp between her breasts. He looked up as he pressed it. The clasp gave and the satin parted. Her breasts tumbled free into his large, warm hands. They were slightly rough, calloused from work. The roughness scraped against the tender flesh of her breasts deliciously. The small imperfection made her feel better. He wasn’t just some pretty-boy actor. At some point, sometime recently, he’d worked and worked hard. “Beautiful.” Face alight with reverence and desire, he cupped her breast and leaned down. His hot breath fanned over her a second before he closed his lips over the dusky-pink 28

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nipple. She gasped as he pulled it into the warm cavern of his mouth and sucked lightly. White-hot pleasure drew lightning from her nipple straight down to her cunt. His lips wrapped around her and he flicked his tongue over her in a rapid tattoo. Giving in to temptation, she drove her hands into his longish hair and held him to her. With each pass of his tongue or soft suckle, the tension in her core mounted, but soon even the delicious sensations he was affording her weren’t enough. Her pussy clenched, desperate to be filled. Her hips rocked as if seeking comfort and release in movement. It wasn’t enough. Snaking a hand between them, she wrapped her fingers around his thick length and began to pump slowly. A growl of approval rumbled through him, the noise emerging as a vibration against her nipple. For a second she wondered what it would feel like if she’d had her nipple pierced. Amusement sliced through her. She was barely halfway through her first seduction of a younger man and already she was thinking of kinkier things. Robert would be shocked, absolutely scandalized. Good. She smiled and pumped Alex’s cock again. A hard hand on hers stopped its movement. “Jeans. Off now.” His order was somewhere between a demand and a plea. “Or I’ll tear them off.” As he spoke, he thrust his open, unbuttoned jeans down his hips to kick them off. She couldn’t help it. Her gaze riveted to him, drinking in every aspect of his face and body, caressing every part of him. He was tall and lean, but with defined muscle she knew was the result of doing his own stunt-work. So was the slight curve where his nose had been broken. The ranginess of youth was beginning to disappear, leaving behind hard strength and strong muscles. He was droolworthy now, but in five or so years, he’d be stunning. And probably snapped up in some celebrity marriage with a hot young starlet. She squashed the thought ruthlessly. That was in the future. This was tonight, and by god, she was going to make it good. Store away the memory of her one night with a

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hot young stud who found her irresistible for the rest of her life. Half closing her eyes, she gave him a hot look from under her lashes and started to unbutton her jeans. He lounged back on the bed, unashamedly naked, with his weight on his elbows. His gaze was fixed on her every movement. With each button, the look got hotter and darker until the air between them was so tight and intense just a spark would be enough to set it off. The last button popped. She turned, looking over her shoulder as she wriggled the denim over the flare of her hips. “Fuck me. A thong. Why did it have to be a thong?” He moved as though to reach for her, but she stopped him with a firm look and a waggle of her finger. It was her turn to play. Hooking a finger under the lace over her hip, she tugged a little. The fabric, nestled in the grove of her ass, shifted. He groaned. “Princess, you’re killing me here.” She ignored him and bent over, spreading her legs to display herself for him. Her cheeks burned again as a small part of her wondered what the hell she was doing acting like this. But the rapid intake of breath behind her told her he liked what he saw. A devil urging her on, she pushed a hand between her thighs and rubbed at her aching clit through the damp lace. Sensation rolled through her in an unstoppable wave, making her buck her hips against her own hand. She closed her eyes and imagined it was Alex touching her, caressing her. He’d rub those long, strong fingers over her, then slide them under her panties and… “On the bed. Now.” When she turned around, his hand was extended toward her. Unable to resist, she slipped her fingers into his and let him draw her to the bed. A small smile quirked his lips an instant before he yanked on her hand, tumbling her onto the bed and into his arms.

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He claimed her lips again, but the gloves were off. He plundered her lips, taking what he wanted. His hands were urgent over her body, cupping her breasts, then tweaking her nipples. The sharp pleasure-pain shot through her, making her clit and cunt ache for one thing—to be caressed and filled. “You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that, princess?” he murmured against her lips as his hands smoothed down her soft belly. Instinctively she tried to twist away, embarrassed about her curves. There was only so much damage control sit-ups could do without a boot-camp-style diet and maybe a body transplant. His hand spread out over her stomach and stopped her wiggling dead, then continued on down. “Pretty panties, I like satin. So smooth. Like your skin.” His fingers traced along the top of her panties, then skipped to the side and started a journey down between her legs. Her moan was lost in his mouth. She parted her thighs to grant him better access as he stroked and teased along the tender flesh at the junction of her thigh and body. So near, yet not near enough. Her clit throbbed in time with his movements. Anticipation built. Any second now he would hook his fingers under the satin, he had to. The need to move built and built inside her. She couldn’t help the small movements of her hips, a silent encouragement to carry on what he was doing and more. He pulled the satin down her hips until she could kick it off and swept his fingers along the slick lips of her pussy. “Fuck me, you’re so wet. Does that feel good, princess?” She couldn’t answer as he continued to explore. His clever fingers stroked and teased, locating the hard nub of her clit and torturing it relentlessly. He circled and pressed as he kissed her until she was breathless and moaning. His thumb hard against her, he teased the entrance to her cunt with a finger. Circling her slick opening, he spread the juices of her own excitement over her heated flesh. Then, without warning, he slid a finger inside her.

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Tearing her lips from his, she moaned against his shoulder. It was just as good as her fantasies. Her pussy clamped down hard around his invading digit. She was so close to coming she could feel the drop widening ahead of her. “That feel good, princess?” He pulled out, and when he thrust in again, another finger had joined the first. She moaned again, thrusting her hips against his hand as he fucked her with his fingers. Even though it felt good, a sense of frustration filled her. His fingers weren’t enough, she needed to feel him inside her. She wanted his cock. Reaching out, she wrapped a hand around his thick length and stroked. A shudder went through him from head to toe. “Fuck me. Now.” “Not yet. Wait.” She wanted to scream. He rolled away and opened a drawer to remove a small foil packet. “Oh…yeah, don’t want any little presents in nine months.” He smiled over his shoulder. Out of sight, his hands moved, smoothing the condom over his cock. “Sweetheart, it’s not about contraception. You don’t know whether I’m clean or not.” “Oh.” She blinked. That thought hadn’t occurred to her, but the jaded expression on his face told her it was all too frequent in his world. Then the fact that he cared enough to protect her melted her heart. “Turn over. Ass in the air.” She didn’t need telling twice. Anticipation warred with sheer need as she turned onto her hands and knees. The bed dipped behind her. The broad head of his cock pressed against her cunt. With a need-filled moan, she pressed back onto it, impaling herself.

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He was big, her pussy stretched to capacity as he pushed into her. She welcomed the slight burning as he pushed in a little, then pulled out only to shove right back in. Hands on her hips, he worked himself into her with quick movements until his balls slapped against her. A small moan escaped her. She felt full, deliciously full, as he pressed tight against nerve endings neglected for way too long. “God, you’re tight. Don’t move or this will be over way too fast.” He leaned over to kiss her shoulder, the strain of holding still obvious in his voice. Kyla froze, just relishing the feeling of being full. In addition to being a crap lover only interested in his own pleasure, Robert had been built on the small side. Alex most certainly wasn’t. “Good girl.” The approval in his voice warmed her down to her toes. Slowly he started to move, pulling out of her to the very tip. She pouted in disappointment. Within a heartbeat he pushed back inside her. She bit her lip as he did it again, then again, increasing speed and tempo until he slammed his cock hard into her pussy and his balls slapped loudly against her. “Fuck me, you feel good. How’s that feel, good?” She couldn’t do anything but gasp and nod, her hands twisting in the sheets as he fucked her hard and fast. She loved it. All that male power and strength bent to one purpose. Screwing her. He moved, his hand reaching around between her legs. She moaned loudly as his clever fingers parted her lips and stroked along her clit. She’d been so close to coming before, the edge just out of reach. Now, as he stroked her hard and fast in time with his thrusts, it loomed right under her feet. Her breathing stuttered as she rocked her hips, fucking him as she pressed into his hand. “Oh…yes! Alex, I’m gonna co—” She didn’t get the rest of the sentence past her lips. Ecstasy hit her like a juggernaut, wiping everything out but the sheer pleasure rolling through her body. She screamed 33

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his name, riding the waves as she pushed back against his cock. She needed it, needed to feel him filling her, needed more. He stiffened and yelled the nickname he’d given her as his cock slammed into her cunt one last time. Buried deep inside, she felt it jerk and pulse as he came, the movement sparking another wave of pleasure. She rode it, her cunt milking his cock for every last bit of sensation until finally they collapsed onto the bed together. She smiled a sleepy smile as he folded her into his arms. She felt boneless and sated. Alex rumbled a deep sound of pleasure and pressed a kiss to her temple. “You get five minutes, princess. Then I plan to make you scream my name all over again.”

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Epilogue He’d been gone by the time she woke up in the morning, leaving a note to say the room was hers as long as she wanted. Even if she’d wanted to, time and her second flight had waited for no one. Kyla cast a glance along the line of people waiting to have their books signed and plastered her game face back on. She shouldn’t have expected him to hang around for breakfast really. It was a one-night thing. Two people from different worlds coming together for hot sex before heading off to live their lives. He hadn’t even asked her name, she thought morosely, as she mechanically signed books and smiled. How much of an indication had that been that it was nothing more than a one-night stand…or her own little flight of fantasy. Two hours passed. She smiled, asked names and signed books. A rigid routine as she worked through the line until it began to thin out. Then there were no more books to be signed. Kyla checked her watch. Thank god, five minutes to close. She’d be able to escape, go back to her hotel and sleep. She groaned and rolled her neck, rubbing at the sore muscles. A book was pushed under her nose. Mentally, she sighed. Latecomers should be shot. “Who to?” Forcing a smile, she pulled it toward her and opened it, pen poised. “How about…‘to my biggest fan’, princess?” The deep voice and familiar endearment brought her head up sharply. Alex stood in front of her, clean-shaven and with a suit on. A twinkle in his eyes, he leaned over the table to brush a kiss against her lips. Around them, a storm of camera flashes lit the room. She blinked in surprise. The cameras hadn’t been there a moment before, so he must have brought them with him. 35

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“I don’t care what you put as long as we get to try the position on page ninetyseven.” She gaped, speechless. He was here. “How did you find me?” she asked as she opened the book. “You didn’t ask my name.” He winked, ignoring the cameras around them. “Enough of a bribe and hotel reception will tell you anything. All I needed was your room number. Are you done here?”

***** Later that evening, she sat on a double recliner on the veranda of Alex’s penthouse room and watched the lights of the city below them. The hours since he’d turned up at the bookstore had passed in a daze. There had been dinner and a party…some kind of film-company event. All through it, even though he was working, Alex had kept her firmly by his side. Her very own Prince Charming. She’d had to pinch herself several times, just to make sure she hadn’t fallen asleep and into her own private fantasy. “Hey, princess.” She turned at the sound of Alex’s voice to find him stepping out of the apartment, a glass of champagne in each hand. He’d lost the suit jacket and his shirt was unbuttoned halfway down, giving her a tantalizing glimpse of his bare chest. “Have you enjoyed the evening? You weren’t too bored, were you?” He sat down on the recliner next to her and handed her a glass. Accepting it with a small murmur of thanks, she took a sip before she answered. “No, not at all.” She slid him a sideways glance, mischief in her eyes. “You are aware of the danger you were courting though? Putting a writer in with all those fascinating people?” “Fascinating?”

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His eyebrow winged up and he put the glass down on the table next to the recliner. He took her glass and put it on the table, his movements deliberate. Out here in the darkness, she couldn’t see his eyes properly, but the expression on his face was predatory. Her breathing hitched as excitement rolled through her. “Princess, the only guy you need to find fascinating is me.” He moved over her, blocking her view of the city and most of the night sky as he pressed her down into the lush embrace of the recliner. Bending his head, his lips grazed the delicate skin of her neck. “You’ve done something to me… I can’t stop thinking about you.” His voice was a hoarse whisper, his hard body warmth against the cool breeze that washed over the rooftop veranda. “All day, all I wanted to do all day was be done with those damn script readings so I could come and find you.” Feminine triumph filled her as he claimed her lips. His kiss was hard and feverish, as though he couldn’t get enough of her. In the darkness of night, all the suave finesse and charm he’d displayed during the evening was gone, replaced by male need and possessiveness. Easing her lips apart, he thrust his tongue deep and groaned. His hand shook as they fumbled with the hem of her dress and slid under it to caress her thigh. She shivered as his roughened palm skimmed her leg and cupped the curve of her ass. She’d been waiting for this all evening. With every kiss and stolen caress, every hot look he’d shot her when no one was looking…it was enough to drive a woman out of her mind with wanting. She freed the remaining buttons on his shirt, pulling the fabric free from his pants. They both moaned as she swept her hands up his broad back. Shoving her dress up to her hips, he parted her legs wider and settled between them. “Feel that, princess? This is what you do to me.” He ground his pelvis against hers. His thick cock, hard as an iron bar, pressed against her clit and she tried not to whimper in need. She remembered what it had felt 37

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like last night as he’d filled her over and over again, his lovemaking just this side of feral. As it would be now. She could feel the tremors he was holding in check, sense the control he was exerting on his body. He moved his head, claiming her lips again. His kiss left her nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. The rush of passion and need was so all-consuming, all she could do was accept it. Accept that he’d gotten under her skin and become an addiction she had no intention of trying to fight. “You’ve bewitched me. All I could think about all night was peeling you out of this…” He pulled the delicate strap down her arm and kissed along the top of her shoulder. “And taking you until you begged for mercy.” She gasped as he nipped her shoulder lightly. The abrasive scrape made the arousal humming through her spiral upward at breakneck speed. Grabbing his collar, she pulled him back to where she wanted him and kissed him soundly. “You sure it’s going to be me begging for mercy? You know what they say about older women…we don’t hit our sexual peak until we’re forty. Sure you can keep up, loverboy?” She didn’t know where the words were coming from. They sounded like something the heroine out of one of her books would say. She didn’t care though. Especially not when he dragged a ragged breath in and his cock jumped against her clit as though eager to be inside her. “Just try me,” he growled. Clothes didn’t fall away; they were unzipped, unsnapped or pushed aside as need blazed hotter than any inferno. Within seconds she had his stiff cock in her hands, guiding him into the slick, hot cavern of her pussy. He pushed against her. Half a second later he was buried balls-deep, her legs wrapped around his lean hips. “I can’t believe we’re doing this here,” she whispered against his neck. They were both mostly dressed, but the veranda could be seen from the buildings around them. Only the darkness provided cover for what they were up to, otherwise anyone could 38

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see them. Her cunt clenched around his cock hard and she frowned. She couldn’t be getting turned-on by that, surely? “Believe it, princess. I can’t wait…” His hips moved rhythmically. Short thrusts as he fucked her hard and fast. His face hard and determined, he moved and pinned her wrists over her head. Stretched out under him like some sort of pagan sacrifice, she felt wanton. Like she could do anything. Not like the mousy divorcée she’d branded herself. Something about him turned her into a sex goddess. Or, at least, that’s how he made her feel when he looked at her like he was. A mixture of male need and feral possessiveness. Like she was everything to him and he had to have her at any cost. He thrust deep again and rolled his hips. His pelvis ground against hers, trapping her clit between them. It throbbed, aching for more. Her cunt tightened around him. “Oh god,” she panted, unable to stay quiet. “More, please…” He grinned, a white flash of teeth in the darkness. No words were exchanged as he upped the pace. He slammed into her again, rolling his hips each time and sending her halfway to heaven. She whimpered and moaned, wrapping her legs tightly around him. With each thrust, the tension in her body grew tighter, her pussy clenching on his cock in need. Anticipation coursed through her as she felt her release rushing up. Her movements became jerky and uncoordinated. She needed more, just a little more, but she couldn’t make it happen. “Shhh, princess. That’s it, just let go. I’ve got you.” He wrapped his arms around her, rolling to his back until she was straddled across him. He bit his lip, his large hands held her hips and he pulled her down, impaling her on his thick cock. The world shattered into a kaleidoscope of color and light. She sobbed his name and pleasure assaulted her from all sides. Her existence narrowed down to the two of them and the place their bodies joined became one. The friction as she rode him, his hands guiding her, elongating her pleasure.

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“So beautiful…All mine. Never gonna let you go,” he murmured, then stiffened. The cords in his neck stood out as he yelled her name in a hoarse cry. His hands bit into her hips as he drove up into her one last time, his cock jerking and pulsing deep inside her. His eyes held hers, astonishment and something deeper than lust in their depths. Still buried within her, he drew her down into his arms as the aftershocks of their release rolled through them. She went easily, a murmur of contentment in her throat as he pressed a kiss to her temple and pulled a light blanket from the nearby chair over them. “Five minutes rest, princess. Then you and me have a date with the shower.” From the way he slid his hand down her back to cup her ass, she didn’t think that shower was going to have a lot to do with washing. But she didn’t care. Somehow, from a flight of fantasy, she’d found her very own Prince Charming.

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About the Author Multi-published author Mina Carter was born and raised in Middle Earth (otherwise known as the Midlands, England). After a slew of careers ranging from logistics to land-surveying, she can now be found in the wilds of Leicestershire with her real-life hero and their young daughter…the true boss of the family. Suffering the curse of eternal curiosity, Mina never tires of learning new skills, which has led to aromatherapy, corsetry, chain-mail making, welding, canoeing, shooting, and pole-dancing, to name but a few. She juggles being a mum, working full time and writing, tossing another ball in the air for her cover artwork. For Mina, writing time is the wee hours of the morning before anyone wakes up and starts making demands or any spare minute that can be begged, bought or conned. Her first stories were penned at age 11, when she used a stationery set meant for Christmas thank you letters to write stories instead. More recently, she wrote for her own amusement and to save on outrageous monthly book bills. Now she’s totally addicted and needs her daily writing fix or heads roll! Mina welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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Also by Mina Carter Her Empath Lyon’s Price

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