Mistress for Hire by Letty James

thigh, under her panties, onto her bare butt cheek.
    Yeeeessss.
    His erection pressed against her.
    Hard. Thick. Oh, God!
    She groaned, breaking their kiss, flinging her head back as he dove into the front of her robe, latching onto her breast through the thin cotton.
    “Gérard!” She dug her heel into his buttock. He stumbled and flung his arm out. A crash of glass. The smell of apricots filled the small room.
    The world stopped.
    Nikki hung in the air.
    His arm encircled her, pressing her against the wood frame of the pantry, holding her against him. Their harsh breathing sounded extraordinarily loud in the small space. His hand released her bottom, sliding along her leg to wrap her once more in her robe. Nikki pressed her lips together in disappointment, forcing herself to keep quiet. No begging.
    “You are one dangerous woman, Mademoiselle Sommers. Remind me never to take you skydiving.”
    A nervous giggle burst out of her. “I’d be too scared to jump.”
    “With your luck, I think we’d both fall out.”
    Nikki wiggled to get down, wanting distance between them, physically and emotionally. He held her tight.
    “Be still.” He hoisted her higher, stealing one swift kiss before he carried her out of the pantry, glass crunching under his shoes. He deposited her onto the stainless steel island.
    Nikki gasped at the cold shock of metal on the back of her bare thighs, bringing her back to earth with a slap. She yanked her robe together and retied it. Wiping a trembling hand over her lips, she squeezed her legs together, as if denying him further access would cut off her own feelings.
    As if!
    Gérard leaned over her, one hand on either side of her thighs, trapping her against the metal. “This isn’t over.”
    If she had any sense, she would bolt right now. Except she didn’t think she could walk.

Chapter 9
    Gérard turned away and ran his hands through his hair, pulling at it. He’d gotten a glimpse of her bare belly before she snatched her robe closed and all he could think about now was carrying her upstairs and stripping her naked. Swirling his tongue over her stomach to dip into her navel. Delighting in her sweet flesh one slow lick at a time. Plunging into her creamy sweetness.
    What was it about this woman that tempted him like no other? He’d had countless lovers, beauties all. But none of them made him want to lose control as this woman did. He knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Except she held back, widening those luminous green eyes, from innocence or intelligence, he wasn’t sure. It would be foolish for them to get involved, although he’d known the minute she’d sat on his desk they would make love. That’s why he’d put it in the contract, so she would know his intent. He wanted a fierce primal joining. He wanted to hear her scream in release, feel her clench around him.
    But it was more than sexual. It was a longing for a connection. To know what she was thinking when she looked into his eyes.
    Damn, he didn’t have time for this. She was merely a way to lure her sister into giving back his documents. He did not . . . repeat not . . . need to get involved with this family.
    Thankful for the distraction, Gérard eyed the spreading glossy puddle on the floor.
    “You make the sandwiches, I’ll clean this up.” Gérard grabbed a handful of paper towels and the trash bin. And groaned.
    “Are you all right?”
    Her petite toes appeared next to him. All he would have to do was run his hand up her leg. On impulse he had done it last night, exploring her soft skin. He closed his eyes.
    “I’m fine. Don’t step on the glass. There’s wine in the chiller under the other island.” When he opened his eyes, she’d moved away.
    “I think I’ll have a glass of milk tonight. It’ll help me sleep.”
    “That sounds good.” Maybe it would relax his raging cock so he didn’t jump on her like some randy teenager. He sighed, craving a double whiskey. Maybe later if the milk didn’t