Cause For Scandal (Dynasties: The Elliotts #3)(8)
Author: Anna DePalo

She shook her head, uncertain of his reaction. “Never.”

She could swear she heard him murmur, “I thought so.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He looked bemused. “It looks like it’s a set of firsts.” He paused. “I’ve never gone to bed with a virgin.”

“Oh.” She digested that information for a second. “Not even in high school?”

“Nope.” Then he teased, “Making some assumptions, aren’t we?”

She felt herself blush with embarrassment.

He held her gaze. “We don’t have to if you’re not ready.”

Here it was, she thought. Her last chance to back out. Strangely, though, she realized it was the last thing she wanted. “I still want to,” she whispered. “I still want you.”

He nodded, and his shoulders relaxed. “Believe me, you couldn’t want me any more than I want you right now.”

Turning, he walked to the adjacent bathroom.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Getting some lubrication,” he said over his shoulder. “We’re going to need it.”

She sat up on the bed.

He came back, set a tube down on the night table and ripped open the foil packet that he’d retrieved earlier.

“Let me,” she said, gazing at him. “Teach me.”

He swallowed—hard.

“Please,” she said, reaching out a hand.

He took her hand and guided her, letting her roll the protection onto him. His eyes closed with pleasure.

She continued to stroke him even with the protection on, and he showed her what to do.

“Ah,” he breathed, opening his eyes, which were cloudy with desire. “I’m about to come out of my skin.”

She held her arms out to him, and he came down beside her on the bed, gathering her into his embrace. He began to kiss her, starting with her lips, then moving to her neck and shoulders and lower.

She felt languorous, wanton and sexy, and one by one, her muscles relaxed. This was better than a Swedish massage, she thought, and they hadn’t even reached cl**ax yet.

He kneaded her flesh while his lips touched here and there, making her come alive.

She shifted restlessly under the gentle onslaught. Finally, when she thought she couldn’t stand any more, he opened the tube on the night table, rubbed some gel between his fingers and started massaging her intimately.

“Oh, Zeke!”

“Shh,” he said soothingly. “Just feel.”

How could she just feel? Quivering, she grasped his upper arm. She felt like a bow that was being pulled tight and then tighter.

Distantly, she heard Zeke crooning to her, and then he was there beside her, gathering her close, as his fingers continued to work and she went over the edge, shaking with her release.

When she finally came down to earth, she turned heavy eyes toward him.

“Now I want you,” she whispered.

“Glad to hear that.” His gaze intent, he moved over her, positioning himself between her thighs. He gave her a quick, hard kiss. “I’ll try not to hurt you. Just concentrate on kissing me.”

His hands and lips soothed as he continued his inexorable move forward.

She felt stretched and full. Fear intruded for a moment, but before she could dwell on it, he thrust forward, burying himself within her.

She pulled away from their kiss and gasped. The pain had been sharp but fleeting. A feeling of fullness remained, and beneath that, pleasure.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his face etched with concern.

“It’s better now. The pain was over quickly.”

He smiled. “But this isn’t.”

He started to move then and taught her how to move with him, setting up a slow rhythm, while he whispered encouragement in her ear and described how she made him feel.

She felt wound tight, and the tension only seemed to build as he whispered intimate questions in her ear and coaxed answers from her.

In another life, she’d have been red with embarrassment. But tonight, she felt loose and carefree.

He was incredible, and he was absolutely devastating her. He crooned some sexy lyrics in her ear, and she nearly came undone.

His pace quickened then, and his breathing became labored and harsh. Just when she thought the coil within her was going to spring free, he thrust once, twice….

Her release came seconds before his powerful cl**ax. He tensed, thrust, jerked, and then went slack against her.

When their breathing had slowed and their hearts had stopped racing, she said huskily, “You’ve got great timing.”

He guffawed and kissed her on the nose. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He moved to her side, slung an arm over her and snuggled her close.

Zeke woke up happy, but the emotion was fleeting.

Sunlight streamed into the room. He could tell because, though his eyes were closed, a bright orange haze played before his eyes.

His lips turned up.

He’d dreamed long and well. He’d imagined himself composing a song—the song that had been torturing him for months.

He hummed a few bars. It was the first time that he’d woken up and been able to hang on to any piece of the song.

He figured there was a reason that he’d finally had a breakthrough, and that reason was lying next to him. She was the primary reason that last night had been superb.

He moved his arm, reaching for her…and came up empty. Just to be sure, he moved his arm again experimentally, patting the mattress. Nothing.

He blinked and sat up. Looking around, his happy mood fled as he realized her clothes were gone. He didn’t hear movement in the suite, either.

Still, on the off chance that he was wrong, he swung his legs off the bed and padded out of the room naked.

After checking the bathroom and then the living room area, he had to face facts: she’d left without so much as saying Goodbye, thanks for a great time. And, to make matters worse, he didn’t even have her full name.

His stomach plunged. Damn it. He battled the urge to punch a wall until common sense kicked in. He could picture the headline in tomorrow’s paper if he gave in to frustration: Bad-boy Rocker Trashes Hotel Suite.

Stalking back to the bedroom, he raked his hand through his hair. He needed time to think. He had to find her—she was the key to his creativity. But he couldn’t go around broadcasting the fact that he’d just spent the night with a woman that he knew only as Caitlin.

His eyes landed on a telltale blood stain darkening the bed sheet, and he cursed. She’d seemed innocent, and she had been.