Jennifer Probst - Catch Me

He walked over.

She cleared her throat and forced herself to appear calm.

“Tara Denton?” His question was more of a command.

She had no spit left when she opened her mouth to answer, and managed only a squeak. “Yes.”

“Good. I’m Rick Steele.” His green-gold eyes gentled as he pulled back a stool and took a seat. “Don’t you like your drink? I’d be happy to get you another.”

She looked down at her barely touched concoction and shook her head. “This is fine, thank you.” She took a large sip and swallowed, as if proving her point. The sweetness was a bit cloying on her tongue, but the vodka burned hot down her throat. Since she rarely drank, she fought a cough, determined to act cool. The slight curl of his lip told her she’d failed.

He signaled the waiter over and ordered a beer. She forced her gaze upward, away from the large fingers inches from her own. Fingers that looked talented. Her cheeks heated at the sudden image of his hands gripping her hips as he thrust inside of her. She took a deep breath and discreetly wiped her damp palms on her skirt. “Well, Mr. Steele–”

“Rick.” Another quirk of amusement curved his lip. “I think we should at least be on a first name basis, don’t you?”

His drawl reminded her of smoke, sex, and sweat. She folded and refolded the cocktail napkin so she didn’t pick her fingers and ruin her new manicure. “Oh, yes, of course. Well, I just wanted to let you know it will be perfectly acceptable if you’d like to cancel. I’m not sure if you saw my photo or read my requirements, but I understand if you decide to leave after our drinks.”

He took a long pull of his beer, then pushed away from the table and studied her with interest. “You don’t like me?”

She sputtered with embarrassment. “God, no! I mean, you seem fine. You’re attractive, and I’m sure you’re experienced. But this is new to me. I just don’t think I’m the type you expected for this, for a….”

“One-night stand?”

“Yes, that’s right.” She nodded again and cleared her throat. “Please don’t feel bad. I appreciate you meeting me.”

One brow shot up. “That’s quite polite of you. But unnecessary.” A wolfish grin transformed his face. A rush of sexual heat squeezed through her blood and settled between her thighs in an ache. “You see, I’m just counting the minutes until I get you into bed.”

The breath whooshed out of her lungs. She blinked in confusion. Had she heard him correctly? No, he seemed to be staring at her with an open sort of...hunger. Nerves and arousal mingled and fought for dominance. She took another gulp of her drink then looked him squarely in the eye. “Why?”

He laughed. The sound drifted across her ears in a caress, and her tummy dipped. She squirmed on the narrow seat. What’s happening to me? Her body revved like a race car ready to shoot from the starting gate. She’d specifically requested a gentle, unassuming man who could slowly introduce her again to the art of lovemaking. How long had it been since she’d desired a man? Most of the time she needed to force herself out of the physical deep freeze with her vibrator. With her ex, sex followed a beating, so she’d learned not to anticipate it. Men usually caused a fear within her that drained away any lingering passion.

But not Rick Steele.

Hell, he’d probably command her body and soul if he got the chance. His dominant personality leaked from his every pore. Why on earth would this type of man ever be attracted to me?

She waited with curiosity for his response.

“I think the question is more like why wouldn’t I? You have a figure to die for, and in a matter of two minutes, you’ve made me laugh. Let’s just say I’m dying to find out how many shades of blue your eyes will turn when I thrust between your thighs.”

Hot color flooded her face. She shook her head and steeled herself to face the truth. Maybe Madame Eve hadn’t told him. Damn it, she’d thought the man meeting her would know a bit about her past and what he’d walked into. She gritted her teeth and lifted her chin in pride. “I’m sorry, but you must not have heard. I don’t…I don’t have a good body. Something happened to me and I have several deep scars that are quite…well, ugly. The man I met tonight was supposed to know that.”

His tawny eyes turned ice cold and his voice lashed like a whip across tender flesh. “I know about your scars. I will not allow you to call them ugly again in my presence. Scars are the evidence of survival and life. Now, I’d suggest we continue this conversation in my suite.”

He dropped a few bills on the table, stood and offered his hand.

Seconds ticked by. She swallowed around the lump in her throat. Her gut screamed in warning. The moment she touched him, she’d lose all control over the date, and be led down a path Frost would term ‘the road less traveled.’

She placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her out.

The door clicked shut behind them.

Rick stepped back and let her gain her bearings. Jackson had set him up with the luxury suite for agreeing to meet Tara, and the opulence stunned most newcomers. He watched with amusement as she tried not to let her eyes pop out of her head. Her gaze swept over the rich burgundy carpeting, expensive watercolors, and 14-carat gold trim on the walls. The living area showcased a series of plush cream sofas with plump pillows, a large wet bar, and a private balcony that overlooked the entire skyline of Vegas. The tables were burnished mahogany and held endless vases of exotic blooms, their scent curling into the air in sensual abandon. Through the hallway, the bedroom beckoned. The oversized king bed, covered with a spread of rich silvers and gold, sat so high he’d need to lift her up. The image of her stretched naked on it teased him mercilessly. He imagined milky skin and gorgeous strawberry blonde hair fanned out on the pillow, her aqua blue eyes begging him to take her.

His opinion of Madame Eve took a positive turn. Bored for months by an endless parade of women, Tara intrigued him within minutes of speaking. She was a mixture of prickle and heat, both shy and direct. Her discomfort about her body challenged him to change her mind.

He never backed down from a challenge.

Even now, her teeth reached for her lower lip and nibbled with worry. She picked at the edge of her nail with a rhythm that warned him she thought of running and desperately searched for a polite way to disappear. He tamped down a chuckle and made his way to the bar. “White wine?” he asked. “Pinot?”

When she nodded gratefully, he uncorked a fresh bottle and poured a glass. Her spike heels sank into the plush carpet as she took in the view from the balcony. Thousands of bright lights twinkled and flashed across the night sky, resembling exotic stars. But, the view of Vegas was nothing compared to his view of her ass.

The lush curves made his fingers itch to touch and stroke, to sink his teeth into the sensitive flesh and take a bite. His cock hardened and he battled for control. He brought her the glass of wine and hid a grin when she grabbed it gratefully.

She took a sip and then a deep breath. He waited.

“What do we do now?”

Damn, she’s cute. He loved her natural fluster and how she barreled right through her own barriers. The woman had great courage, especially if her past was accurate. He lowered his voice to a sexy murmur. “What do you want to do?”

She stepped back and caught herself. “Umm, well, I guess we get undressed, right? Would you mind dimming the lights? Or do you just want me to wait under the covers for you?”

She wasn’t joking. Anger took hold and shook him deeply, but he didn’t reveal the emotion on his face. What asshole taught her sex was dirty? Or that she wasn’t worth any more than a quick screw in the dark? Madame Eve’s report told him of her scars, and her self-consciousness, but not how she’d received them. Had another man beat her?

He’d fucking kill him.

“Stay here a minute.” He turned on his heel and marched into the bedroom. Yanking open the closet, he took out one of his white shirts then returned to the living room.

“Honey, can I ask you to do a few things for me?” He gentled his voice to put her at ease. After a moment, she nodded. “I’d like you to put this shirt on, take your hair down and remove all your makeup.” He reached out and caressed her cheek. “Please.”

She stared at the fabric. “Why?”

He smiled at her confusion. “Because I want to see your face and I want you to be comfortable.”

He waited patiently while she digested his request. “Now?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She walked to the bathroom. In a matter of minutes, she came out and stood in front of him. “Better?”

His heart stopped.

Gorgeous.

Heavy waves of strawberry blonde strands fell over her shoulders and tumbled in abandon. Her skin glowed, freshly scrubbed of all makeup, and showed off a generous smattering of freckles across her nose. Her skin was creamy white and smooth. He resisted the urge to taste her with his tongue and see if her flavor was as sweet. Her plump lips were a pale pink. But her body....

His shirt swallowed her up, and he caught the barest shadow of nipples poking at the fabric. The hem fell past her knees, and showed off muscled calves and pretty cotton candy painted toes.

“Oh, yeah, much better,” he growled. “Turn around?”

Her face reddened, but she turned slowly in a circle to please him. Her natural manner to give struck him. She obviously liked to bestow pleasure, and probably had that gift exploited to such an extent it frightened her. As she pivoted, the line of her purple panties showed through the shirt, the full cheeks of her ass begging for his fingers. She wasn’t ready yet. He needed to relax her first.