Kiss of Ice (St. James Family) Page 5

  “Who said anything about that?” He snaked a hand out and ran his knuckle slowly down her cheek. A shiver ran up her spine and she felt the familiar twinge of arousal between her legs. Damn him. She supposed it was her fault, for pushing the direction of the conversation. She caught his wrist and pushed his hand down to the seat between them. She kept her eyes to the skyline, trying to fight the torrent of thoughts rushing her brain.

  Chapter 7

  The rest of the car ride was in virtual silence. Christophe didn't know what to make of her mood. Was she giving an invitation or shutting him out again? She kept her face to the window and didn't give him any clues. He rolled his shoulders, feeling like a rusty tin-man in need of oil. His body was sore and tight, and he had a sneaking suspicion the cold shower that morning hadn't helped. He'd barely slept at all the night before, tossing and turning. He was restless, and horny as hell. Being so close to Annie was like adding fuel to the fire.

  The car slowed to a stop in front of their hotel. Christophe unfolded himself from the backseat and held his hand out for Annata. She took it, her slender leg emerging from the car first. She leaned on him for a brief moment, then she slipped her hand out of his. They walked to the gilded entrance of the hotel. The doors opened for them, both sides manned by a bellhop. Annata glided to the elevator and he followed, stumbling like he was drunk.

  The elevator doors closed. Annata stared straight ahead. She pressed the button for the twelfth floor. His room was on the fifteenth. “Come have a drink,” she said. It was all Christophe could do to remain standing. He was about to collapse, his lack of sleep catching up to him in a rush. But he nodded. There was no way in hell he was going to turn down her offer.

  He followed her down the hallway, their shoes sinking into the plush red carpet. She dug around in her purse, looking for her room key. She swiped it and opened the door. She turned on a lamp and took off her coat. She eased his coat off of his shoulders and tossed it on a chair. It was all a blur for him, until she took his hand and led him to the bedroom. Then his senses were alert. Sounds and smells were amplified in the quiet room. Her perfume pierced his nostrils. The links of her watch clinked together loudly as she reached for him. “Sit,” she said. He sat. She stood in between his knees and smoothed her hands over his shoulders. His own hands itched on his knees, wanting to touch her but not wanting to scare her off and ruin the moment. She kneaded the muscles in his neck. The rest of the world disappeared except for her hands. His head suddenly felt too heavy and he dropped his chin to his chest, closing his eyes as she worked her magic.

  “Thank you for staying today,” she murmured, her fingernails gently raking across his scalp. “I don't think I could have gone on without you.” He couldn't resist any longer, and wrapped his arms around her thighs, pressing the top of his head lightly into her abdomen. Her warmth seeped through the the fabric between them. He wanted to fall asleep just like this. “Whiskey on the rocks?” She said after a moment. He nodded, but held her tighter. He didn't want her to leave him. She smiled and pulled out of his embrace. She kicked off her shoes on her way to the mini-bar. He watched her pad barefoot across the thick carpet. This is how it would be if they were together every night, he thought. An ache of longing throbbed in his chest. With a sigh, he rolled onto his back on the bed. Her bed was infinitely comfortable. After tossing and turning all night in his, but he was pretty sure hers won by a landslide. She mumbled a soft curse to herself. “I need to get ice.”

  “I'll get it.” He said, struggling to sit upright. She grabbed the stainless steel ice bucket and pushed him back down on her way out.

  “Relax. I'll be back.” The door clicked closed behind her. He laid back, staring at the ceiling. The room was so quiet and warm. He didn't want to leave. Being with Annie like this, so familiar, was the only thing in the world he wanted. The only thing he could ever want.

  ***

  Annata stood over Christophe, clutching the cold ice bucket. He was sound asleep on her bed. She wondered what she was doing. What did she want from him? In the elevator, she wasn't ready to say goodnight. She wanted more time with him. She didn't want to be alone. She was tired of being alone.

  She moved to the mini-bar and poured a whiskey on the rocks. Leaning against the desk, she studied him. He was so big in the room. His presence was taking up most of the space, but she didn't mind. She put the cold drink to her lips and sipped. The liquor was slightly sweet, but also smoky and rich. She licked her lips, savoring the warmth spreading down her throat to her chest. Christophe lay with one arm across his stomach, the other behind his head. A lock of blond hair fell across his forehead. His eyelashes were long against his cheek. She tossed her head back and drained the glass.

  After brushing her teeth and taking off her jewelry, she crawled onto the bed and lay on her side facing him. They were alone together in a foreign city, and she had no concept of time. The only things that seemed to existed were the two of them, right then. She traced the line of his cheek with her fingertip. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation. Maybe it was the isolation. Whatever the reason, she was tired of fighting. Ever since Christophe had walked in the door at the Christmas party, she'd been fighting him. Fighting her attraction to him. Fighting her body's reaction to his. In the car, she realized that it was inevitable. If he was going to chase her, she was going to let him catch her. Even it meant she was only another notch on his bedpost.

  The ringing of her watch alarm cut through deep haze of sleep and Annata opened her eyes. Blue light seeped through the silk curtains, a sign that the sun was about to rise. She pressed the button on her watch to silence the alarm. 6 a.m. She groaned, her body stiff and creaky as she sat up. She was still in the clothes from yesterday. Her bra dug into her side. As she adjusted it, she turned her eyes to the man in her bed. Christophe was on his side, his broad shoulder jutting out and his head at an angle. She wet her lips. What a sight. Too bad they had to be at the office in an hour. For now, what she really needed was coffee.

  She pushed herself to the end of the bed and stood. She untucked her blouse and picked up the phone to dial the front desk. She ordered coffee and croissants and charged it to the room. Christophe rolled onto his back with a moan. She brushed her hand across his knee.

  “It's six,” she said.

  “Shit,” he grumbled without opening his eyes. He snaked a hand out and grabbed hers. He yanked her off balance, and with a unladylike squeal, she ended up next to him on the bed. He pulled her to him, her back to his chest, wrapping his arm around her waist. He nuzzled his nose in her neck. “A few more minutes,” he mumbled. He slid his hand under her blouse. He was hard; she could feel his erection against her ass. His fingers roamed up her stomach. She could feel his heartbeat against her back. He tugged at the dip in the center of her bra. Her nipples tightened and she felt her breathing slow. She squirmed, adjusting her hips against his. “Relax,” he said.

  “I'm trying.” Annata said and took a deep breath. It was hard to calm down when her entire body was humming. Finally, she felt herself relaxing into his warmth. His breathing fell into a rhythm and she felt her eyes slipping shut. She knew they had to be up soon, but she didn't care. She wasn't completely comfortable, though. She wanted out of her clothes. They felt too constricting. Her belt was cutting into her stomach. Her bra was like sandpaper against her aching nipples. She felt a creeping heat flowing down her legs and arms and her skin felt flushed.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Son of a bitch!” he growled in her ear. “Who's that?”

  “The coffee.” Annata managed to get out. She struggled against him to sit up, but he only held her tighter.

  “Fuck it.” He nuzzled her neck. “I'm comfortable.”

  “If I don't get that coffee, I'm going to be the biggest bitch you ever met in your life,” she said.

  “Too late.” he whispered, a smile curling his lips. But he loosened his grip on her and she scooted off the bed. Eyeing herself in the mirror, she ran a ha
nd through her hair and then unlatched the door. She took the tray with the carafe and croissants from the waiter and gave him a smile.

  She gave the boy a tip and thanked him before shutting the door. Setting the tray on the desk, she turned to Christophe. He was flat on his back, watching her. Her eyes ran down the length of him, noticing his erection hadn't abated. She remembered the thoughts she'd had last night. How she'd wanted him. Warning bells starting blaring in her mind. She needed to get him out of her room, stat. “I need to take a shower.”

  “Is that a hint to go or an invitation to stay?” he said, sitting up.

  “You can have your coffee to go.” Annata said, pouring a cup with shaking hands. She left it black and lifted the cup to her lips. She took a small, scalding sip. Immediately, she felt the caffeine coursing through her veins. She moaned in appreciation as the coffee did its job. Christophe stood and stretched. He caught her eyes watching him.

  “Guess I'll go take my own cold shower then,” Christophe said with a smile. He moved toward her, grabbing his coat and suit jacket off of the armchair. She poured him a cup, black like hers, and handed it to him. She bit her lip as he took a healthy drink from the cup, his eyes never leaving hers. Then he leaned forward, uncomfortably close. She held her breath, the tension crackling between them. He set the cup on the desk behind her. “Thanks for the coffee,” he said. Then he pulled away and headed for the door.

  Annata heard the thundering of blood in her ears as her heart quickened. All she would have to do was ask him to stay. There would be no games. He wouldn't push her away; he wouldn't toy with her. They would be naked and fucking in minutes. She knew how good he could make her feel. She gnawed at her lower lip. When was the last time she had sex? Over six months ago. Too long. She set down her cup. Maybe she was making a mistake. But the decision was made. With a shaking hand, she began unbuttoning her blouse.

  Chapter 8

  “Christophe,” she said, her blouse flapping open. He turned back to her, and froze. His eyes dropped to her hands.

  “Annie,” he said, his voice a warning. She took one step, then another, backwards. He followed her, like a lion stalking prey, tossing his coat on the arm of the chair. She let her blouse drop to the floor. Then she unbuckled her belt. Christophe made a low growl in his throat and advanced on her. Annata fell backwards onto the bed as she unbuttoned her pants. Taking her cue, he yanked her pants down her thighs and threw them across the room. She shivered as the cool air hit her legs. He stood to the side of the bed, staring down at her. Then he lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. She sat up and went to work on his belt. “Annie,” he moaned as she ran a hand up his erection.

  She smiled at his tone. He was coming undone. His breathing was erratic as his eyes scanned her. She hoped he still liked what he saw. She was older now, she was not unaware. But she was in better shape than she was seven years ago thanks to her sister's influence. Her hips were smaller; her stomach and ass were flatter and harder. “Take off your bra,” he said. His commanding tone sent a shiver down her spine. She ran her hands slowly up her body, then arched her back and reached behind her to unclasp the bra. She slid the satin straps down her arms, but held them there, the cups still covering her.

  He clenched his jaw. “Take it off.” She shook her head, enjoying teasing him. He ripped the bra off of her in a fast motion. Her breath caught in her throat as his eyes took her in. He swept a palm up her stomach and between the valley of her breasts. “You're gorgeous,” he said. He traced her right nipple with his fingertip. She felt an electric bolt through her whole body. She didn't realize how much she missed his touch. She purred and arched her back, her breast filling his palm. “Est-ce un beau rêve?” He said.

  “Tell me what you want,” she whispered. He drew a ragged breath.

  “Je ne veux pas réveiller.” he responded. Then he withdrew his hands from her and yanked his belt free of his pants. In a minute, he was naked after stripping off the remainder of his clothes. She pushed up on her elbows and drank in the sight of him. She had never seen him completely naked before. He was better than she had imagined—thick cock, a torso cut from marble and spotted with tattoos, broad shoulders, and powerful legs.

  “Good lord,” she breathed. He was too much. He leaned over her and peeled her panties down her legs. She gasped as the movement sent sparks shooting down her legs. She didn't want to wait any longer. She couldn't wait any longer. She felt so empty. She hadn't realized how empty she was. Only he could fill her.

  He crawled in between her legs, pushing them open with his knees and exposing her to him. He ran his palms up her inner thighs. His eyes darkened to a stormy black as he looked at her. He dipped his head and she jumped when she felt his wet tongue flick against her clit. Her legs involuntarily clenched around him, but he pushed them back open wide. His tongue swirled around her clit and she tossed her head to the side trying not to scream. She scraped her fingernails against the taut skin of his shoulders trying to hold on.

  He swiped his tongue along her intimate folds, his five o'clock shadow tickling the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. She clenched her teeth, feeling herself starting to spiral. The feelings he was stirring up in her were too intense. When he dipped two fingers inside her, she almost came out of her skin. She bucked her hips, and he closed his mouth over her clit and sucked. This time, she couldn't contain herself. She hoarsely cried out. He chuckled, his throat vibrating against her.

  He continued pumping his fingers in and out of her in a slow rhythm as he skimmed his mouth over her stomach to her breasts. “Come for me.” He breathed before he closed his mouth over her left nipple and rolled his tongue over the hard tip. Then he sucked hard. She tossed her hands over her head and grasped the headboard. She needed something—anything—to ground her in the real world. She gripped it so hard her hands went numb as his fingers pumped faster and he sucked harder. He was killing her slowly, so slowly. Then he took her nipple between his teeth and lightly bit down. At the same time, he curled his fingers deep inside her. The tension she felt building inside her snapped like a cord and she felt the wave of her climax wash over her. She tossed her head back and held fast to the headboard as she let the emotions take over. He watched her, his eyes dark and stormy, ready to pounce. She could only lay there as the waves crashed over her, boneless and vulnerable to attack.

  He swooped over her and pinned her down under his big body. He traced kisses down her neck and she felt giddy laughter welling up in her. She could feel his hardness against her thigh. He was so close. He squeezed her right breast, and flicked his tongue against her over-sensitive nipple. She felt ripples of tension go through her. He was driving her mad. “I've dreamt of these tits,” he murmured before sucking her into his hot mouth. She ground her hips into him. She needed him buried deep inside, now.

  “Condom,” she said, hoarsely. He ignored her, a smile on his lips as he ran his tongue up the valley between her breasts. He tweaked both of her nipples at once, tugging on them lightly. “I can't—,” she trailed off, planting her hands on his shoulders trying, in vain, to roll him over onto his back. She wanted him now. She wanted to pump her hips and take all of him. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the mattress.

  “You can't what?” he demanded, the muscles in his arms flexing. She struggled against him, feeling like a cat in heat.

  “I can't wait any longer,” she said through gritted teeth. She wrapped her legs around his waist and ground her wet pussy against him.

  “What do you want me to do?” He bucked against her, a familiar fiendish smile crossing his lips. He was going to make her say it.

  “Fuck me,” she said. She tried to pull her hands free, but it was useless. He was too strong. She felt completely under his control. A dangerous thrill ran through her. She would never underestimate him again.

  “Beg,” he replied, rolling his hips so that the head of his hard cock parted the lips of her pussy. He was so close. So close.

 
“Please,” she hissed, tightening her legs around him.

  “Please what?” he whispered, taunting her.

  “Please fuck me,” she said, her throat tight. He pushed off of her and shot off the bed. She almost whimpered when his weight was gone. She was so turned on and ready, she would've fucked him without a condom. That's how far gone she was. She was on birth control, after all. She turned her head as she heard him open the packet. He rolled the sheath down over himself and she moaned. What a sexy sight. He stroked his cock, looking at her.

  “Are you real? Or am I dreaming?” he asked, huskily.

  “You better get your hot ass over here!” she said, crooking her finger at him. He laughed, throwing his head back.

  “That's my Annie,” he said and was on the bed again in an instant. He hooked his arm under her right knee and opened her wide. With his other hand, he guided his hard cock to her pussy. He nudged into her, on the cusp of breaching her. His eyes found hers. She bit her lip and inhaled at his look. The lust was written all over his face. She nodded, letting him know she was ready. In a fluid motion, he slid deep inside. Annata's mind went blank as he filled her so completely. They moaned in unison, connected finally. One word kept repeating deep in the recesses of her brain. Yes. Yes. YES. He threw his head back, the tendons in his neck straining as her inner walls squeezed him. He let out another ragged moan.

  He withdrew, then pumped back inside, filling her to the hilt. She held out her arms in a wordless request. She needed him close. He leaned forward, into her embrace. She clung to him tightly as he bucked his hips against her in an ungraceful, impatient rhythm. He wrapped his arms around her, one hand cupping her skull and the other around her waist. They held each other, as he fucked her faster and faster. She raised her knees as high as she could and rolled her hips into him, pulling him deeper and deeper. His breath was jagged in her ear as he quickened his pace.