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Authors: Maureen Smith

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BOOK: Whatever You Like
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Easing herself up, she watched in fascination as her body slid from his dark, glistening shaft. She hovered right at the tip, feeling her walls grip and contract around him. And then she slid back down, glorying in the erotic friction. Roderick groaned, sweat beading on his forehead, his muscles quivering as he fought the urge to thrust into her.

She leaned down and brushed her breasts across his parted lips, teasing and tormenting him. His tongue darted out to taste her nipple just as she pulled away with a throaty laugh. Frustrated, he swore and growled deep in his throat. She'd never felt more powerful.

She reveled in the harshness of his breathing as she leaned back, giving him a full view of her bouncing tits as she rocked up and down on him. She cupped them and imagined his big, strong hands caressing her nipples. The image was so tantalizing that she was tempted to release him from his restraint just so he could really touch her. But she resisted, reminding herself not to surrender control. It was all about control. Empowerment.

So she lifted her breasts, flicked out her tongue and licked her taut nipples.

When Roderick made a rough, strangled sound of hunger, she laughed. She felt wicked, wanton. Completely uninhibited.

She started riding him harder and faster, arching her
back and shoving her hips forward so that his penis hit her at the deepest angle, sending waves of mind-blowing sensation through her groin and up her back. Her clit quivered and convulsed, and she ached for release.

“Now,”
she cried in a dark, husky voice. “Move now.”

It was like releasing a raging bull from its pen. Roderick's hips surged upward, and he began thrusting into her so violently she had to squeeze her thighs around his to remain astride him.

Their bodies slapped together, flesh striking flesh. Her thighs were hot and slick, slipping and sliding against his as their tempo increased. She could hardly breathe, her heart pounding like a racehorse's as it galloped toward the finish line. Gasping, she ground her hips against Roderick's, her pussy full and aching. He pushed back at her, trying to get as deep inside her as possible.

And then she was coming. And so was he. His body arched as he exploded inside her with a shout, flooding her with his scalding heat.

She threw back her head and closed her eyes. Gripped in the throes of ecstasy, she almost called out his name. But at the last second she held back, refusing to cede any power to him, even in that electrifying moment.

She collapsed on top of him, her sweat mingling with his, sealing their hot skin together. She lay on his chest and listened to his ragged breathing, her head lifting with every deep inhalation.

She must have dozed off. When she felt his arms go around her she jumped slightly, startled at how quietly and easily he'd loosened the restraint. The fact that he hadn't freed himself during their fevered lovemaking showed just how much willpower he possessed.

He'd allowed her to call the shots tonight, which begged the obvious question: Had she ever really been in control?

Chapter Twelve

I
t was the absence of Roderick's body that awakened Lena the next morning.

After spending the night wrapped around him, their bodies joined from shoulder to thigh, it was jarring to roll over and encounter nothing but empty space. Jarring enough to pull her out of a deep, satiated slumber.

She sat up quickly, clutching the sheets to her chest as she swept a look around the cabin.

It was empty.

Roderick was nowhere to be found.

Fighting a sick sense of déjà vu, she swung her gaze to the bedside table, half expecting to find a wad of bills and a thank-you note. When she saw nothing there, she wilted against the headboard and blew out a shaky breath.

Get a grip, girlfriend. He didn't skip out on you. He “owns” you for the next three weeks, remember?

Lena grimaced, dragging an unsteady hand through her disheveled hair.

She hadn't meant to spend the night with Roderick. After the disaster with Glenn Donahue, she'd sworn off sleepovers with men—clients or otherwise. She'd had every intention of asking Roderick to summon his driver to take her home. But when he'd folded her into his arms and whispered an endearment against her mouth, she couldn't bring herself to leave him.

You really are a glutton for punishment,
her conscience mocked.

The ding of the elevator sounded from the foyer. Her nerves tightened, twisting her stomach into knots. She schooled her features into impassivity just as Roderick sauntered into the cabin.

If she thought he couldn't look any better than when he was wearing one of his expensively tailored Italian suits, she was dead wrong. The man was fine and divine in dark jeans that hung low on his hips and a T-shirt that molded his muscled arms and chest. Even his bare feet were mouthwateringly sexy in a pair of black flip-flops.

“Good morning,” he murmured, gazing at her as he approached the bed. Her pulse thudded with each step that brought him closer.

“Why didn't you wake me up?” Hearing the note of accusation in her voice, she inwardly cringed.

Roderick smiled. “You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn't want to disturb you. Especially since you didn't get much rest last night,” he added meaningfully.

Her cheeks heated. She wet her lips, rolled them inward, and averted her eyes from his as he plopped down on the edge of the bed and leaned back on his
elbows. The intoxicating musk of their lovemaking wafted up from the sheets, taunting and tempting her.

“Why, Miss Morrison,” Roderick drawled, sounding distinctly amused, “unless my eyes are deceiving me, I
do
believe you're blushing. I wouldn't have expected that from the naughty little vixen who tied me up and had her way with me last night.”

“I'm not blushing,” Lena muttered, even as her face grew hotter.

Roderick laughed.

Hoping to distract him, Lena asked abruptly, “What time is it?”

“Just after ten.”

She gasped. “Ten!”

Roderick shrugged a shoulder, unconcerned. “Saturdays are meant for sleeping in.” And yet
he'd
apparently been up for a while. “I need to get home,” Lena told him. “Can you send for your driver?”

“I could,” he said indolently, “but it wouldn't do you much good.”

“Why not?” Suddenly she went still. “Wait a minute…. Why is the boat moving? Aren't we docked at the pier?”

Roderick's eyes glinted with mischief. “Not quite.”

She frowned at him. “What does that mean?”

“It means that you're not going home today. Or tomorrow either, for that matter.”

“Why not?”

“Because we're taking a two-day cruise down Lake Michigan.”

“What?”
Lena exclaimed, bolting upright. “You can't be serious!”

“I am, actually. I woke up this morning, stepped out
on the terrace and decided this was a perfect weekend for a relaxing, scenic trip down Lake Michigan.” He smiled lazily. “I realize it's not Belize or the South of France—we can do that next time.”

Lena stared at him in outraged disbelief. “Have you lost your mind? I'm not going on a cruise with you! Turn this boat around!”

He chuckled softly. “I'm afraid I can't do that. We're already on our way to Michigan.”

“Michigan!”

“Yep. Captain says our first stop is Holland, a quaint little Dutch village with cobblestone sidewalks—his description, not mine. After that we're off to Mackinac Island. Horse-drawn carriages, beautiful Victorian architecture, limestone bluffs. I've never been there, but it sounds charming, don't you think?”

“Lovely,” Lena agreed through clenched teeth. “Tell me something, Roderick. While you were experiencing this moment of spontaneous inspiration this morning, did it once occur to you that I might have other plans this weekend?”

“What other plans?” There was a jealous edge to his voice.

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she visited her grandfather every Saturday and Sunday. But when she opened her mouth, some perverse impulse made her say instead, “I have a date tonight.”

Roderick frowned. “I thought I already told you—”

“It's not with a client.”

Something dark and possessive flashed in his eyes. “Are you telling me that you're seeing someone?”

She didn't blink. “That's right.”

His eyes narrowed. “I don't believe you.”

She bristled. “Why not?”

“You're not the unfaithful kind.”

“We have an open relationship,” she flung back.

Roderick's expression hardened. “Then he's a damn fool. And so are you if you think this changes anything between us.”

“Really?” she challenged. “So you'd have no qualms about banging another man's girlfriend?”

He laughed shortly. “You don't have a boyfriend, Lena.”

“How the hell do you know?”

“Because you would have mentioned him last night during our negotiations.” His gaze darkened, moving hungrily across her face. “And because no man in his right mind would willingly share you with strangers.
I
sure as hell wouldn't.”

Lena's pulse jumped and raced. She tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry.

Roderick chuckled, soft and knowing.

Glancing around the cabin, Lena mumbled, “Where's my dress?”

“It's being dry-cleaned. It had a…stain on it.”

She caught his meaning, remembered their explosive elevator encounter, and pulled the sheets up to her eyes to hide her flushed face.

Roderick threw back his head and laughed, which only made her blush harder.

As his laughter subsided, he smiled and shook his head at her. “What a fascinating contradiction you are, Lena Morrison. I'm going to
love
spending the next three weeks with you.”

“I bet you are,” she grumbled under her breath.

What Roderick didn't know about her was that no
matter how many seductions she performed, or how confident and worldly she seemed as an escort, a part of her would always be the shy teenager who'd struggled constantly with her weight and low self-esteem.

Dark eyes twinkling, Roderick straightened from the bed. “I have some important phone calls to make,” he said apologetically. “I'll try to finish up as quickly as possible. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable.” He nodded toward the connecting bathroom suite. “Take a hot shower. Or soak in the Jacuzzi, if you like.”

“I don't have a change of clothes,” Lena reminded him sourly.

“No problem. During our tour, you may have noticed the boutique on the third deck. I had it specially built for my sisters, who always forget to pack something whenever they travel. They appreciate the convenience of having a full-scale boutique on board, and not having to spend a dime is an added bonus. And they're both shameless clotheshorses, so of course I have to keep the shop stocked with the latest fashions. You'll find everything you need. Skirts, tops, jeans…lingerie,” he added suggestively.

Lena congratulated herself for not blushing this time. Shaking her head in disbelief, she said, “You've thought of everything, haven't you?”

He grinned unrepentantly.

When the elevator chimed from the foyer, Lena shot him a questioning glance.

“Your breakfast is here,” he told her, rising from the bed as a uniformed server rolled a linen-covered cart into the cabin. As Roderick motioned the woman forward, Lena pulled the heavy duvet up to her chest to make sure she wasn't flashing a nipple.

After the server had filled a glass with orange juice and fussed with the fresh-cut flowers arranged in a crystal vase, Roderick thanked her. She smiled shyly at him and Lena before departing.

Lena's stomach growled as the scent of hot food hit her nostrils.

If Roderick heard the embarrassing rumble, he gave no indication. “I hope you're hungry.” Standing over the cart, he removed the silver serving lids to reveal an appetizing spread of thick Belgian waffles, bacon, scrambled eggs, grits, biscuits and an exotic assortment of fresh fruit.

Lena's eyes widened. “Please tell me I'm not supposed to eat all that food by myself.”

Roderick chuckled softly. “We worked up quite an appetite last night. You should be hungry.”

“Not
that
hungry.” But her mouth was definitely watering as she watched him fix a plate from the dishes set out on the cart. “Have you already eaten?”

“Sort of. I had coffee and bagels during my videoconference this morning.”

“Videoconference?”

He smiled wryly. “My new Japanese business associates don't recognize Saturdays as part of the weekend.”

“So in addition to planning a spontaneous weekend getaway and taking care of my dry-cleaning, you had a business meeting? Just how long have you been up?”

“A few hours. Syrup?”

“Yes, please.” She watched as he poured maple syrup over the Belgian waffle. “I can't believe I didn't hear you moving around. I'm usually a light sleeper.”

“You were exhausted.” His lips twitched. “Understandably so.”

Lena couldn't argue. She was deliciously sore, her muscles aching in places she hadn't used in years, if ever.

Instead of passing her the plate he'd fixed, Roderick sat on the bed beside her and cut into the waffle. When he brought the fork to Lena's mouth, she was so startled that she opened without thinking.

Roderick watched as her lips closed around the fork, accepting the morsel of food. After she'd chewed and swallowed, he murmured, “Good?”

“Mmm. Scrumptious. My compliments to the chef.”

Roderick smiled. “I'll pass that along.”

He forked up another piece of waffle and held it to her lips. This time she hesitated before accepting it. She'd never been fed by a man before. It made her feel vulnerable…and cherished.

Over the next several minutes, he alternated between feeding her forkfuls of waffle, grits and eggs, and pinching off pieces of a biscuit to give to her. Their eyes held every time she bit into the moist, flaky warmth. She didn't know what delighted her more—the delectable food or eating from Roderick's hand.

When he offered her another bite of waffle, she belatedly remembered that he'd had only bagels that morning. She caught his wrist and redirected the fork, indicating that he should feed himself.

She watched as he drew the morsel of food into his mouth and closed his eyes. She didn't know whether he was savoring the waffle or the taste of her that lingered on the fork. She got her answer when his lids lifted to reveal dark eyes glittering with arousal. As he slowly licked the tines of the fork, her nipples puckered and her clit pulsed.

They stared at each other as he speared a chunk of mango and brushed it tantalizingly across her lips before sliding it into her mouth. She sighed with pleasure as the sweet, luscious flavor bathed her tongue. When Roderick fed her another piece, droplets of juice dribbled onto her chin. He wiped them away, then slid his fingers into his mouth and sucked them as if he were tasting her pussy.

Lena shivered, wetness pooling between her thighs. She'd never realized that the simple act of being fed by another could be so damn stimulating. She was seized with the sudden urge to knock the plate out of Roderick's hand, tear off his clothes and haul him back into bed with her. But she hadn't quite forgiven him for commandeering her weekend. That kind of arrogance couldn't be rewarded with hot, mind-blowing sex—at least not right away.

When Roderick reached for the fork to resume feeding her, she put her hand over his. “I can take it from here.”

His mouth curved in a slow, sensual smile. As he settled the plate on her lap, she could feel the heat of his skin through the thick duvet. The brush of his fingers sent sparks of electricity shooting to her groin, making her clit throb until she had to squeeze her thighs together.

The devilish gleam in Roderick's eyes let her know that he was fully aware of—and pleased with—the havoc he was wreaking on her body.

As he stretched lazily from the bed, he said, “Tonight we can have dinner on the terrace. The view's great. Scenic and…inspiring.”

Lena muttered darkly, “The last time you were inspired by that view, I wound up getting kidnapped.”

He laughed. “I prefer the term ‘whisked away.' It sounds more romantic. Less—”

“Criminal?”

He grinned. “Exactly.”

Before Lena could respond, he plucked a tulip from the vase, broke the stem, then leaned down and gently tucked the flower behind her ear. As his soft gaze roamed across her face, he murmured, “Be still my heart.”

Ignoring the way her own heart thumped, Lena gave him a surly look. “Don't you have phone calls to make?”

He smiled. “I do. And that's the
only
thing keeping me from climbing back into that bed and making love to you. I know that once I start, I won't be able to stop.”

BOOK: Whatever You Like
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ads

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