Hot Number by V.K. Sykes

to help by inserting one brawny thigh between her
legs, propping her up by pressing tight against her cleft. That in
itself was a revelation. It took all her discipline not to push
down, rubbing herself against the rock-hard muscle—almost as if she
could ride him to orgasm. He probably wouldn’t mind her doing that
but it did seem a little forward, even under the present
circumstances.
    After a few minutes, his wonderfully rough
hands began to roam her body even as his mouth continued to suckle
and—oh, yes—nip at her breasts. He made smooth strokes, somehow
both soothing and exhilarating, down the long muscles of her back
and over her behind. Then he continued down the backs of her
thighs, trailing around the front and then up to trace the edge of
her panties. He dipped one long, tickling finger under the skimpy
fabric, brushing through her hidden nest of curls. Sadie jolted up
on her toes again as an aching hunger awakened deep inside, making
her feel edgy and restless and strangely vulnerable.
    Disconcerted, she squeezed her eyes shut and
tried to control the almost frightening sense of need surging
through her body. Need for physical release, yes, but something
more. Something she couldn’t name but that she wanted Nick—and only
Nick—to give her. She sucked air into her lungs, fighting for
breath. Fighting to remember that this was just a Vegas fling, and
not something that really mattered.
    He nuzzled once more then lifted from her
breast. A hand came up under her chin, gently forcing her head up.
Warily, she opened her eyes.
    “What’s wrong?” His deep, dark eyes were
narrowed, but his voice sounded amused.
    She blinked as she stared back at him,
letting the simple yet surprisingly complicated question sink into
her bones. Sheldon had never asked her a question like that during
sex, nor had she expected to engage her brain in emotionally
analytical exercises with only her panties on. And nothing was
wrong. Not really. After all, how could something that felt so
right have anything wrong about it?
    Damn. Sadie had hoped her anxiety had
finally taken a long overdue sabbatical, but it rippled down her
spine like bone-chilling Chicago sleet.
    “I’m not exactly sure what you mean,” she
hedged. The wall suddenly felt cold and unforgiving against her
back, something she hadn’t noticed until now. “Um, am I doing
something wrong?”
    His easy smile provided some measure of
reassurance, the warmth of it drifting over her like a soft mist.
He brought his face close, leisurely tasting her lower lip before
kissing her with a tenderness that made her heart clutch. A few hot
moments later, he drew back.
    “Not at all,” he said, sweeping a slow,
possessive hand down over her chest and stomach. Her knees
practically buckled on the spot. “But there’s more tension in this
little body than in a fishing line with a marlin on the hook.”
    Her anxiety made her seek reassurance in a
joke. “Are you saying I’m a cold fish?”
    Nick laughed. “Hell, no. Baby, I’m so hard
right now I want to throw you on the bed, spread those pretty legs
wide, and ride you till I make you come at least three times.”
    Mercy! Sadie swallowed, both wildly
excited and a little unnerved by that particular image.
    He ducked his head to look her in the eye.
“Am I going too fast for you?”
    She repressed a groan. Was it that obvious?
Hell, this was one time she wished she were like Cassie. Her friend
would know exactly what to do to make sure a man never had to ask
that particular question. “I’m sorry. I’m trying hard to relax, but
I wasn’t this nervous when I had to make a presentation before two
thousand people in Stuttgart last year. Stupid of me, isn’t
it?”
    He gave a laugh that sounded more like a hum
while he slid his index fingers into her panties and tugged them
until they fell to her ankles. “What kind of presentation was that,
Ms. Bligh?”
    Oh, great! That would certainly kill
the mood—confessing to the