Julie James - About That Night

“Hold on to me,” he whispered.

She wrapped her hands around the back of his neck and held on tight as he got up from the chair and carried her to the bed. He set her on top of the covers, gazing down at her with a scorching-hot look as he began to undress, first his jacket and shirt, then all the rest.

Over the years, Rylann had secretly harbored a few thoughts about what Kyle Rhodes might look like naked, based mostly on the brief feel of his toned body against hers when they’d kissed all those years ago.

None of her fantasies came close to the real thing.

As he stood naked before her, she unabashedly took in every hard, chiseled inch—the firm chest, tight abs, lean hips, and strong, muscular thighs—and came to one inescapable conclusion.

Prison did a body good.

Her eyes traveled down to his erection, big and hard and ready to go. With a knowing grin, Kyle moved over her on the bed and hooked his fingers around the waist of her panties. He pulled them down, slid them off her legs, and then sat back and looked at her.

“Perfect,” he said huskily.

He lowered himself onto his forearms and kissed her, his hand moving between her thighs. Rylann trembled as his hand went higher to part the soft folds between her legs, spreading her open. He expertly teased her with his forefinger, making her gasp against his mouth, before sliding a finger into her.

“You’re so wet.” He added a finger and began moving them in a smooth, torturous pace. “That’s going to be my cock in a minute.”

“Kyle.” She pressed instinctively against his hand as he made her body burn.

“Touch me, Rylann,” he said, nuzzling her neck.

He rolled onto his side and she followed, all too happy to oblige that particular request. She slid her hands over his chest, down his stomach, then heard the catch in his breath as she continued downward.

He closed his eyes and moaned when she wrapped her hand around his shaft. “God, yes…”

He was hard and throbbing as she smoothed her thumb over the head, then she began stroking him in the same smooth, slow pace he’d used on her. She leaned forward and kissed him, her nipples brushing against his chest as their tongues tangled. She stroked and teased, hearing his breath turn more and more ragged.

Suddenly, he rolled her onto her back and pinned her hands against the bed. “I need to fuck you,” he rasped. “Now.”

Hot flames licked at her body. “Please tell me you have something.”

In answer, he reached over and yanked open a drawer on his nightstand. He ripped open the wrapper and rolled the condom on, then moved between her legs.

He settled the tip of his erection right at her warm, wet entrance and spread her legs wider with his knee. Then he slowly entered her, filling her completely, until he was fully buried inside.

“Christ, you are so damn sweet,” he groaned. He clenched his jaw as he began to move. “I’m going to be inside you all night,” he said in a guttural voice. He pinned her with his gaze as he took her in smooth, deep strokes. “Just like this.”

“Yes,” she breathed as she arched to meet him. Together, they found their rhythm, and right as she was getting close, Kyle sat back on his knees and teased her with short, shallow thrusts.

“I want to see you when you come,” he said, reaching down and stroking her between her legs. Rylann cried out and exploded as he continued to thrust, now hard and deep, riding her through her climax. He pulled her up to straddle him, and she held his face and kissed him as he cupped her bottom and guided her up and down on his shaft. He was so hard in her, and the friction between their bodies was so intense, that suddenly, she felt another orgasm building.

She gasped against his mouth, her legs shaking. His hands were firm, pressing her against him in just the right way, and she knew that he knew exactly what he was doing. She whimpered when the second climax hit her, and then he picked up the pace, their bodies moving together, until he gripped her hips and growled as he exploded deep inside her.

They stayed entwined like that for several moments, both panting, until Rylann finally slid her body off of his. They fell back onto the bed, and Kyle braced himself over her, his hair falling across his forehead and his cheeks flushed as he peered down at her.

There was a proud spark in his eyes. “So?”

She smiled. “Okay. Maybe a little bit better than ‘not bad’ this time.”

“You know, you really are a burr up my ass.”

Rylann laughed hard at that, reaching up to cup his face. “Why, Kyle Rhodes. You say the sweetest things.”

WHEN RYLANN WOKE up and felt the warm, hard body next to her, for a split second she thought she was back in San Francisco with Jon.

But as her eyes fluttered open and she took in the scene—shades pulled down over floor-to-ceiling windows; plush, taupe covers and oversized pillows on the bed; enormous plasma television on the wall—she suddenly remembered.

Kyle.

As the soft morning light filtered in through the shades, the reality of the situation hit her.

She’d slept with an ex-con.

And not just any ex-con—she’d slept with the Twitter Terrorist, one of the most famous convicted felons to be prosecuted in recent years by the very office she worked for. A man who, just one day ago, had been her witness.

I’m not going to be a good girl tonight.

Safe to say she’d accomplished that goal.

She lay there in Kyle’s bed, not feeling guilty, just perhaps a bit…out of sorts. Meth Lab Rylann didn’t mix business with pleasure. She didn’t do office romances, she didn’t sleep with ex-witnesses, and she sure as hell didn’t have sex with ex-cons. Three times.

Quickly, she scrolled through her memories of the night before.

Those were some damn steamy memories.

A very clear, erotic image popped into her head of her straddling Kyle during round two, her hands running over the hard muscles of his chest as he murmured her name while she rode him. Then another one, of the two of them in his steam shower, the multiple jets beating a sensual massage against her skin as Kyle kneeled before her, pressing her against the warm marble and teasing her with his mouth as her moans echoed through his gigantic bathroom.

Rylann paused suddenly, remembering that one.

Oh crap, the shower.

Her hand flew to the mess of unruly curls tangled around her head and shoulders.

Lovely.

Time to make her getaway.

She peeked over her shoulder at Kyle, who slept facing her, with one arm tucked under his pillow. Seeing the rugged stubble along his jaw and the slight upturn of his lips, she had to fight the urge to snuggle against him, run her hands over his amazing body, and wake him up for round four. Unfortunately, such actions were directly contrary to her plans to: (a) make sure the sexcapades, though spectacular, remained a one-night deal, and (b) get the hell out of Dodge before Kyle noticed that she’d mysteriously sprung a Chia Pet from her head.

Slowly, she eased out of the bed, fully naked. She found her panties on the floor by the foot of the bed and quietly slid them on. Then she tiptoed across the room to the armchair, where she’d done her striptease for Kyle the night before—very fun and naughty, but there was no time to linger over more steamy memories—and found her bra, shoes, and dress. With her back to the bed, she hurriedly put on her bra, then realized the zipper of her dress would make too much noise and might wake Kyle up. Deciding to put the dress and her heels on in the living room, she bent over to pick them up and—

“Very nice.”

Rylann stood up, clutching her dress against her chest, and looked over her shoulder.

Kyle lay in bed, propped up on one elbow while watching her with an amused expression. “Fleeing the scene of the crime, counselor?”

This man could read her like a damn book sometimes. “No,” she said defensively. At least not for the reasons he likely assumed. She had no problems with the sex—all three scorching rounds of it. It was the ex-con part that had her somewhat agitated. “I just have this…thing I need to go to.”

He glanced at the clock on his nightstand. “At seven thirty on a Saturday morning?”

“It’s an early-morning thing. And I have to go home and shower first, obviously.”

“Of course. Here’s a tip, counselor: plan your getaway excuses the night before.”

Right. She’d forgotten that she was dealing with a pro. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” Since there was no need to sneak around anymore, she stepped into her shoes and was about to put on her dress when she noticed the way Kyle was staring at her in her underwear and high heels.

His eyes went all warm and dark, taking in the sight. “Maybe you really should stay a little bit longer.”

The lure of those blue bedroom eyes was tempting.

Then his gaze shifted to the wild bush sprouting from her head. “Wow. Did I do that to your hair?” He looked oddly pleased at the thought.

Rylann made a mental note to throw a flat iron in her purse the next time she had sex in the shower with a billionaire ex-con. Not that there was going to be a next time. “Not all of us are lucky enough to have freakishly perfect, shampoo-commercial hair. This is what happens when I get wet.”

His expression turned wicked. “I know exactly what happens when you get wet, counselor.”

Yep, she’d walked right into that one.

“Usually there’s a lot of moaning and heavy breathing,” he continued. “Although my favorite part is the way you say my name—”