Hitting on the Hooker Read online

  She’d never considered herself the delicate type of female, apt to swoon at the mere presence of a man, but wrapped in his arms, she felt tiny and feminine. He surrounded her, his body language both protective and possessive.

  He held her close, one hand sliding to the nape of her neck while the other slid down the length of her back to cup her ass in a bold move. She gasped as he pulled her flush with his hips again, his interest pressing hard into her belly. Sparks of arousal fizzed through her veins, tingling along every inch of her skin and settling low in her abdomen. An achy, nervous feeling as though a thousand hyper-active butterflies took up residence.

  His lips curved towards a smile as he looked down at her, still taller even though he was in a slight squat against the wall. She liked that, liked that he was so tall and powerful. The light in his blue eyes was warm, with a hint of darkness lurking behind them. A heated darkness she wanted to see much more of.

  He bent his head, nudging at her nose with his, more a nuzzle than anything, before he claimed her lips. Again, he was soft and gentle, but the tension in the musles beneath her hands told a different story. He was holding back, and she didn’t want that. She wanted all that power unleashed. Wanted to feel it, taste it.

  So she moved in, pressing against his hips with hers to trap his hard cock between them. Sliding her hands up to his shoulders, she kissed him back, angling her head and parting her lips in invitation.

  He growled, a low sound deep in the center of his chest that she more felt than heard. His fingers tightened, gripping the rounded globe of her ass as he took her up on her offer. His tongue slid past her lips to stroke along hers, and she became a victim of her own plot.

  Pleasure and anticipation rolled through her in equal measures as he lazily kissed her. He didn’t push, didn’t touch her up or grope, just kissed her, as though she was the only woman in existence. Gently, as he learned the shape of her lips and thoroughly, as though he were committing them to memory. She could get used to this, the way he held her and kissed her tapping into something deep within her.

  Her breath caught when he pulled back, teeth grazing against the full curve of her lower lip. Her hands became claws to mangle the collar of his shirt. She moaned in frustration when he pulled away and tried to drag him back.

  He rumbled in amusement, dropped a quick kiss on her upturned lips, and stood straight. “Shh, it’s okay. Just the cab. Come on, before you get too cold.”

  There was fat chance of that, she mused as he led her across to the cab parked at the curbside, his arm firm around her waist. Which was a good thing, since her legs didn’t appear to be working at the moment. Not due to the alcohol. Anticipation and the cold air had burnt that out of her system as soon as they’d left the bar.

  No, it was all him and his soft approach. It was so different to what she’d expected of him, of a rugby player, and was so sexy and seductive that she was hooked. Totally and utterly hooked.

  She didn’t catch the address he gave when they were settled into the back of the cab, but she wasn’t worried. The whole bar had seen them leave, and it wasn’t like he was hard to identify, not built the way he was. Besides, she felt safe with him, a knowledge that arrived from nowhere but a gut feeling she trusted. There was something about his manner, the way he looked at her and touched her that told her he would protect her with his life if need be.

  Leaning back as the car pulled off, he pulled her back into his arms. She went happily, settling into his side, her head pillowed by his muscled arm.

  “You warm enough?” He leaned into her, keeping his voice low. His warm breath whispered against her ear, and she nodded, feeling like she was caught up in a little cocoon that contained just the two of them.

  The journey passed in silence. Not a comfortable one, but one super-charged with awareness. His thumb stroked down her arm, the pressure felt even through the layers of his jacket, and he reached out with his free hand to capture hers.

  Half turned on the seat, he surrounded her, his broad shoulders blocking her view out of his side, but he didn’t kiss her, not on the mouth. His lips grazed her temple in small caresses that kept her blood simmering. What would he be like in bed? Soft and gentle? Slow but determined? A shiver hit her as her pussy clenched hard in anticipation.

  The car turned left into a residential street, and pulled up outside an apartment block set a little way back off the road.

  “Just a minute, mate.”

  He moved his fingers under her chin to make her look up at him. Restrained heat and control swirled in his eyes, the light color reflecting the street lamps outside.

  “Last chance, Fern. I can have the guy take you home now.” His lips quirked. “As long as you give me your number, because I’d really like to see you again. Or you can come in.”

  She bit her lip for a second, trying to calm the shiver that held her body in its thrall. “And if I do?” Would he still want to see her after?

  Triumph flared in his eyes, followed by a heat so intense her ovaries threatened to spontaneously combust.

  “Then you’re all mine.”

  *

  The wait as Fern made her mind up all but killed Tom. Somehow he managed not to kiss her until she agreed to anything he wanted. Given her responses to him outside the bar, he knew he could. Easy. Just the thought of kissing her again had his cock pulsing, and his balls pulled up tight. God, what was he going to do if she said she wanted to go home?

  He’d let her go, even if the very thought had all his instincts demanding that he haul her out of the car, throw her over his shoulder, and carry her off so he could make her his. Not the actions of a civilised man, but around her, he didn’t feel civilised at all. He felt barbaric. She was his. Even if he had to woo her over weeks…months…he would get her into his bed. But he’d have the worst case of blue balls ever, if she decided to go home now.

  “Okay.”

  There it was, that one little word. His breath punched out of his chest in a rush, relief making him light-headed for a second. She wanted to come in. Thank fuck for that.

  Planting a quick, hard kiss on her lips, all he would allow himself, he turned toward the driver and handed him a twenty. “Thanks, mate. Keep the change.”

  He shoved the door open and helped her from the car as quickly as he could without yanking her out. The cab pulled off, and he breathed a little easier. She couldn’t change her mind now. He had her…would have her.

  A small hand slid into his, and he looked down. She smiled up at him, face pale in the street lights. “You looked so fierce then, I thought you were about to throw me over your shoulder and carry me off to your cave.”

  The words were light and joking, but made him pause. What was she, some kind of mind-reader?

  “Believe me, where you’re concerned, I’ve been having some very primitive thoughts.”

  Tightening his grip around her hand, he headed for the front door to his apartment block. There were just four units, and he’d never been so glad as he was now that he had a ground-floor apartment. There was no way he’d have been able to stand in an elevator with her without stripping her clothes off and taking her right there against the wall. His control wasn’t that good. Hell, around her, it was completely fucking shredded.

  “Really now?” She trotted to keep up with him as he turned right and headed down the corridor to his place. “Dare I ask what sort of primitive thoughts?”

  Lord, give him strength.

  Reaching his front door, Tom stopped, but instead of reaching into his pocket for his keys, he turned, yanking on her hand so that she ended up in his arms. She gasped at the sudden move, the look in her eyes pushing his control as he eased her back against the wall.

  Unlike outside the bar, he pressed into her, using the weight and strength in his body to hold her, one hand at her waist and the other braced above her head. His lips crashed down on hers, and he kissed her as he’d wanted to earlier. Long and deep, until she writhed and moaned against him.
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br />   After long moments, he lifted his head. “Does that answer your question?”

  Wide-eyed, the expression on her face sexily dazed, she nodded. She bit her lip, pulling the lush lower curve into her mouth as though tasting his kiss. He groaned.

  “Holy hell, Fern. Don’t do that or we won’t get inside.”

  Putting distance between them, he fumbled in his pocket for his keys. His hand shook as he shoved the right one home and twisted. The door opened, and he somehow managed to remove the key without breaking it off in the lock. Stepping back, he let her walk past him before he shut the door.

  Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly.

  Not switching the lights on, he followed her into the main room, flooded with moonlight from the open curtains. She stopped in the middle of the floor, not looking around. Her head was tilted to the side as he came up behind her, tracking his movements—waiting for him.

  Cupping her arms, he slid his hands down until he encircled her wrists in his fingers. So delicate and tiny, he could break her if he wasn’t careful. A shiver whispered over her skin, but she didn’t move away. She stepped back until her back met his chest.

  He let go of her wrists and stroked both hands up her arms, the differences arousing him further. She was all soft curves and satin skin compared to his bulk and muscle. Leaning down, he pulled her hair to the side and pressed a kiss to her throat. The scent of her perfume was stronger here, warmed by her skin, and her pulse fluttered beneath.

  “Do you want a drink?” He asked, trailing a line of kisses up her neck to just behind her ear. It was unfair, and he knew it was. He was a bad host, but now that he had her here, he couldn’t stop touching her.

  “No.” She gave a tiny shake of her head, and then tilted it to the side, resting against the swell of his shoulder and biceps to give him access to the delicate length of her neck. “No drink.”

  Thank fuck. He’d have spilled boiling water over himself if he’d tried something as advanced as making a hot drink. Alcohol would have been easier, but she was already tipsy. He didn’t want her drunk. He wanted her awake and aware when he made her his.

  “I hoped you’d say that.”

  Turning her in his arms, he took her bag from her hands, tossed it onto the sofa, and lifted her into his arms.

  She squeaked and clung to his shoulders. “Tom, put me down. I’m way too heavy!”

  Chuckling, he shook his head and headed toward the bedroom. “Little thing like you? Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve seen the other guys on the team. I throw them about daily. You’re nothing.”

  Shouldering the door open, he stepped into his bedroom, thanking any gods that were listening that he’d changed the linen this morning. Fresh, crisp sheets adorned the bed, the duvet pulled down in invitation. He came to a stop next to it.

  “Shoes off, love.”

  Her eyes were dark as she did as he asked, toeing one off and then the other. She wasn’t wearing pantyhose, her legs bare against his arm where he clasped her under her knees. Good. Pantyhose were the least sexy thing he could think of. While he had her pegged as a stockings type of girl, the less wrapping he had to take off her, the better.

  “You’re beautiful. How did I get so lucky?”

  He slid her down the front of his body, feeling every curve and hollow, until the luscious curve of her breasts mashed against the solid expanse of his chest. Her fingers threaded through the hair on the back of his neck, her entire body pressed against him. He closed his eyes for a second as a shudder rolled through him.

  The brush of her fingers on his cheek made him look at her. Her lips were pursed in concern as she examined the injury there. Truth be told, he’d forgotten about it.

  “Poor wounded warrior. You must get really beat up on the pitch,” she said, reaching up on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek. He intercepted the next one, her sweet lips landing on his again.

  The taste of her exploded on his tongue when he parted her lips and drove inside. Her hands stroked over his shoulders, and played with the buttons on his shirt. Her fingertips dipped under the fabric to brush against his chest in maddening little brushes. He growled against her lips, feeling his control beginning to slip. When he couldn’t take anymore, he moved, capturing her hands in one of his.

  “My turn to touch.”

  It had to be, or this was going to be the quickest fuck she’d ever had, and he didn’t want that. He wanted to drag it out, go slow and savour the experience. He had one chance to make a first impression with her, and he was determined to make it a good one, to make sure that he was the standard by which she measured all other men by from this day forwards.

  Biting back the surge of jealous anger at the thought of her with someone else, he located the zipper at her spine and pulled the tab down. It gave with a rasp, the sound a low whisper in the room. He watched her as he pulled it all the way, noting the changes in her eyes. The growing heat and darkness. The tiny hitch in her breathing. Her gaze dropped to his lips, her own parting.

  “Do you know what you do to me, looking like that?” He had no idea what he was saying. He was talking shit but didn’t care. She was gorgeous, and he had no idea what she saw in an ugly son of a bitch like him, but he wasn’t going to argue. No way, no how.

  With shaking fingers, he peeled her dress from her shoulders and let it fall to the ground until she was left standing in front of him in her underwear. Stunned, he just looked at her. Beauty, brains and a body like that?

  He’d hit the fucking jackpot.

  Chapter Three

  Oh my god. She’d forgotten how nerve-racking letting a guy see her body for the first time could be. Biting her lip, Fern fought the urge to cover herself with her hands as she stood in front of Tom. She wasn’t in the worst shape, but not the best either, so the thought of him seeing her wobbly bits brought instant heat to her cheeks. Unable to stand it anymore, she spread her hands to cover up.

  “No. I want to see you.”

  He moved like lightning, grasping her hands and holding them out to the side. His face had been in shadow before, but the movement brought him into the dim light offered by the blinds at the window. Desire tightened his features, heat and a wicked darkness in his eyes that made her shiver.

  He stepped back, into shadow again, but she could still feel his eyes on her, noting everything about her appearance. She felt like some medieval servant girl brought in to pleasure her lord. Biting her lip again, she jumped when he growled at her. An honest-to-goodness primal male growl.

  “Do that again…” he warned, letting go of her wrists to start unbuttoning his shirt. It was her turn to be captivated, her attention riveted on each piece of skin revealed to her. He was perfection itself. And hers…for tonight anyway. She wouldn’t let herself think beyond that.

  “On the bed, slowly.”

  Backing up, her knees hit the edge of the mattress, and she scooted backward, unable to look away. He reached the last button and stripped the shirt off. She swallowed. He was huge, his broad shoulders and wide chest packed with muscles. Muscles on muscles, all under smooth skin. A smattering of hair peppered his chest. More than she was used to seeing, but not too much. She itched to touch, still sitting up and fighting the urge to reach out.

  “Lie down,” he ordered softly as his hands went for his belt. “I want to see you spread over my bed.”

  Where he would take her, that hard powerful body moving over and within hers… She swallowed, her throat dry, and lay back as requested. She didn’t even worry about laying seductively, the strip-tease going on right in front of her fried her brain cells.

  She couldn’t look away as he undid the belt, not sliding it free to draw it out and tease her, just leaving it hanging loose as he unzipped the dress pants. He wasn’t commando. The breath she hadn’t realised she held escaped her lungs in a rush as he pushed the pants down, shucking his shoes and socks off in the same movement. A guy taking his pants off wasn’t a sexy sight, and to his credit, he didn’
t even try, just dumping the clothing and approaching the bed.

  He wore tight cotton boxers, black ones, but even in the low light filtering through the blinds she could see the thick bar of his cock pressing against the fabric. Heat and doubt hit her at the same moment. He looked way bigger than he’d felt when she was pressed against him, and it had been a long time since she’d done this.

  The mattress dipped next to her, and he pulled her back into his arms. She went eagerly and nestled against his larger body as he wrapped her in his embrace. A wash of heat hit her as skin slid over skin. She tilted her chin up, seeking his kiss again. She wasn’t an innocent, but she’d never felt as delicate and feminine as she did in his arms. Safe and secure. Protected and desired all at once. It was a heady feeling.

  His lips feathered over hers, the illusion of softness fleeting as he parted her lips with a decisive sweep of his tongue and drove inside. Her whimper of pleasure was lost in his mouth as he explored hers. It was a deeper, harder kiss, like the one he’d given her by the front door. Wriggling against him, her hands clutched at the solidness of his arms as she tried to get closer.

  He murmured in approval, sliding one arm under her neck while the free hand slid down her thigh and pulled her leg up over his hip. She gasped, and moaned in pleasure as the position pressed his groin hard against hers. The thick, solid length of his cock rubbed against her, stroking her engorged clit through the layers of fabric that separated them until she saw fireworks behind her closed lids.

  “You’re so damn sexy,” he muttered, voice muffled against her neck as he worked his way down. His hips rocked against hers, and he reached back up to hook strong fingers under her bra strap. His breathing was ragged as he yanked it down, the sharp bite of the elastic the first hint of roughness he’d displayed. Tension held his body taut, but the tremor that laced the hard muscles told her he was on the edge of his control.

  She smiled, the expression, a mere curve of her lips, lost when he rolled her to the side and unsnapped the clasp between her shoulder blades. With a sweep of his hand, the bra was gone, her breasts uncovered for his gaze and touch.