Susan Mallery - Only His

He drew back and walked to the door, where he turned the lock. From there he crossed to Will’s desk and began tearing open drawers.

“Where are they?” he muttered. He swore, pulled open another drawer. “Yes!”

He held up a condom.

“Fascinating office supplies,” she said as she pulled off her boots.

“He keeps them around for the guys, more as a joke than anything else.”

“I’ve always liked Will.”

She finished with her boots and socks. Tucker headed back toward her, pulling off his shirt as he went.

She gave herself a second to enjoy the view — the sculpted muscles and narrow waist, the erection jutting against his jeans. Then he was undoing the button on her pants and pulling down the zipper. She found herself a whole lot less interested in how things looked rather than in how things felt.

He wrapped one arm around her and pressed his mouth to hers. As he kissed her into a quivering mass, he slipped one hand between her bikini panties and her hip, then moved his hand slowly, oh so slowly around. At last he eased his fingers between her thighs.

She’d been wet and swollen since the first kiss. Now she held in a groan as he explored her, sliding his fingers against slick flesh, finding that one spot and circling it slowly before brushing over it.

Heat burned down to her toes. She had to stop kissing him, had to stop even breathing so she could focus on the brush of his fingers. Back and forth, over and over. The trembling in her legs increased. She could barely stay standing.

In a matter of seconds, she was inches from coming. She gritted her teeth, then pushed him back.

“Naked,” she demanded. “Now.”

He obliged by pushing down his jeans and boxers. She pulled off her clothes, then shifted onto the table behind her. He put on the condom, then joined her.

She reached between them, guiding him inside of her. He was thick and long and filled her until she gasped with the pleasure of it. Every nerve ending cheered. Deep inside, she felt the tension start to increase again.

“This isn’t going to go well,” he groaned, pulling out and thrusting in again. “Dammit, Nevada.”

Despite the building tension, despite the threatening release, she laughed. “It’s not my fault.”

“Sure it is. You feel too good.”

He pumped in again. At the same time he cupped her breasts in his hands. His forefinger and thumb caressed her nipples. The sensations were amazing, perfect. Just enough.

“Go for it,” she told him, wrapping her legs around his hips. “Just go for it.”

He hesitated for a second. She pulled him in with her thighs and he sank in as far as he could.

“Like that,” she breathed.

He took her at her word and moved faster, deeper. She gave herself up to the rhythm and over to the man. He dropped his hands to the desk for leverage. Again and again he filled her, stroking her so deliciously that she let her head fall back and rode the inevitable wave.

Her orgasm hit with the subtlety of a freight train. One second she was enjoying the ride, the next every muscle contracted and released. She clung to him, crying out her pleasure. More, she thought frantically. More and more and more.

He kept going. Thrusting, filling, carrying her on until the last of her contractions eased and she could breathe again. Then he groaned her name, pushed in one more time and was still.

She could feel the frantic beating of his heart and knew hers pounded just as hard. Their breath came in pants. Muscles spasmed. From outside, she heard the low rumble of heavy equipment.

She looked up and met his bemused expression.

“I thought we weren’t going to do that,” he told her.

“We weren’t.”

“That was the best not doing it I’ve ever had.”

She laughed. “Me, too.”

She supposed the awkward bits would come later — when she’d had a chance to think about what they’d done and wallow in the consequences. But for now there was only the hum of satisfaction and a pleasant relaxed sensation.

He kissed her once, then withdrew. They dressed, handing each other items of clothing. As she reached for her boots, he grabbed her and kissed her again. She went into his arms. Somewhere outside a vehicle pulled up close to the trailer.

Tucker swore and glanced toward the sound. “Rain check?” he asked.

She nodded.

They finished dressing, then unlocked the trailer door. She opened it and stepped outside.

A long, black limo had parked by the trailer. The driver got out and walked around to the rear passenger door.

Tucker moved next to her. “Someone from town?” he asked.

“Fool’s Gold isn’t much of a limo place,” she said, curious as to who would arrive with so much fanfare.

The first thing she saw was a black leather boot with a thin high heel. Next she saw a slender, jean-covered leg, then a woman emerged.

She was of medium height, with layered dark hair. Large sunglasses covered much of her face, but Nevada recognized her all the same. There was no way she could forget the high cheekbones, the full mouth, the perfection that was unmistakable.

Caterina Stoicasescu had come to Fool’s Gold.

NEVADA FOUND IT DIFFICULT to breathe, let alone speak. Fortunately, no conversation was needed. She could simply stand there, staring, blinking, probably looking like an idiot.

Cat, wearing a white wool coat over a dark red sweater, pulled off her sunglasses.

“I see you’re both surprised,” she said, then laughed, the light, tinkling sound exactly as Nevada remembered. “Good. That’s what I wanted. When I accepted the invitation, I insisted no one be told. Pia promised. I’ve known for nearly a month I would be surprising you both!”

Bright sunshine illuminated her face. The harsh light should have been unkind. Instead of adding shadows or lines, it simply played across the perfection of her face, making her look exactly as she had ten years ago.

Nevada knew the other woman had to be in her mid to late thirties. She might even be forty — but she couldn’t tell. If anything, Cat had gotten more stunning with age.

Cat hurried toward them. As she approached, Nevada inhaled the scent of her perfume and knew that, yes, this really was happening. She’d just thrown herself at Tucker, only to have the one woman who’d obsessed him show up. Talk about crappy timing.

“How I’ve missed you both,” Cat said, throwing herself at Nevada and hugging her tightly. The other woman was strong, probably from her years of working with metal. She kissed Nevada on both cheeks, then turned to Tucker.

“You’ve thought of me often,” she announced, before embracing him.

Nevada didn’t want to watch, but she couldn’t turn away. Tucker looked as stunned as she felt. It was probably like being swept up in a tornado. You could see it coming, but before you could get out of the way, it was there, sucking you up in its grasp.

Cat hugged him just as tightly, then stepped back and linked arms with Nevada. “Isn’t this a wonderful surprise? When I received the invitation, I nearly threw it out. I get asked to so many places. The fame.” She sighed. “Sometimes it’s a burden. But then I recognized the name. Fool’s Gold.” She squeezed Nevada’s arm. “You talked about this place, about growing up here. So I simply had to come.”

Nevada cleared her throat. “I don’t understand.” That was more polite than what she was really thinking. Something along the lines of “Why the hell are you here?”

“There’s an artist festival. I don’t remember the details. That is why I have a staff.” She smiled again. “Not to worry. I won’t let them keep me too busy. I want us to spend time together. To get to know each other again.”

The irony didn’t escape Nevada. Cat had returned to both her and Tucker’s lives and Nevada only had herself to blame. Why couldn’t she be like other people and want to escape where she’d grown up?

Cat released her and turned to Tucker. “I thought we could spend some time together, too. It’s been so long.”

This time Nevada managed to turn away. She told herself she was studying the job site, getting an idea of what was going on with her crew. But it was a lie. Instead she was doing her best not to get lost in the past.

She knew what would happen. Despite his claims of being over Cat, there was no way Tucker could resist her. She was too beautiful, larger than life. Tucker was a regular guy — mortal. What hope did he have against someone like Caterina Stoicasescu?

Nevada took a step away and felt a slight ache in her hips and thighs. A reminder of their lovemaking a few minutes ago. Talk about feeling stupid, she thought glumly. How long would it take for her to feel the way she did in college? Always out of place, on the fringes, looking in and wanting what she could never have. Telling herself she was a mature adult now didn’t help very much.

“I’m busy,” Tucker said flatly, pulling away from Cat.

Instead of looking insulted, Cat simply smiled. “Not too busy for an old friend.” She turned to Nevada. “Have dinner with me tonight. Both of you. It will be like it was before.”

Nevada would rather have a root canal. “I can’t.”

“Of course you can. You must. Otherwise you’ll break my heart. I’ve so been looking forward to seeing you again.” Cat stared at Nevada intently. “You have to believe me.”

All those years of being told to be polite by her mother came back to bite Nevada in the butt. She found herself verbally stumbling over a believable lie.

“I, ah, I…” She sighed. “Fine. Dinner. It’ll be great.” Hell was a better word, she told herself. “But for now, I need to run.”