Page 5 of Turning Up the Heat

Her hands were on his cheeks, and as his short, tidy beard tickled her palms, she imagined how the hair might feel between her thighs. She felt the thrum of desire in her core, and her panties grow moist, and she whimpered into his mouth.

With a desperate growling sound, he pulled away from her. Both she and Tom fought to catch their breath, and the sound of their mingled breaths filled the quiet room. She didn’t know why he’d ended their kiss and wondered if he would leave her wanting in the dimly lit room. But he didn’t make a move to leave. Surprising her, Tom put his large hands on her hips—digging his fingers in—and roughly turned her around before pulling her close again, pressing her back against his chest. She could feel the length of his dick against her ass, and he grunted against her neck when she rubbed against it.

Gemma knew Tom Cain was a smooth operator when it came to business—cool, collected—but there was nothing calm or gentle about the way his hands slid up and down her body. He pulled her hair away from her shoulder, exposing her neck, shoulders and chest. At the start of the night, she’d feared that the plunging neckline of her dress might be a little daring for the professional event. But when Tom put his lips on the sensitive spot at the hollow of her shoulder, she had no regrets about showing some skin.

Tom’s lips worked their way across her shoulder, and he palmed her breasts through her dress. His touch was rough, insistent, but it wasn’t enough. Gemma took his right hand in hers and pushed it down to her thighs. He needed no further instruction; his right hand immediately went under the hem of her dress and traveled upward. His touch tickled her thigh, and she stifled a giggle. The laughter died, however, when his right hand reached into her panties. There was nothing preliminary, delicate or timid about his touch. He knew what he wanted, what she needed. His breath warm and heavy in her ear, his fingers slid underneath the lace of her panties, skimming along her desire-slicked skin.

Anticipation kicked her heartbeat into overtime, and she thought it might burst out of her chest. When one of his fingers delved between her folds and brushed against her clit, she cried out as pleasure surged upward throughout her body, making her light-headed, completely forgetting about the reception happening on the other side of the door.

“Quiet, now,” he ordered, murmuring in her ear. With one hand in her underwear, rubbing against her most sensitive flesh, he covered her mouth with his other hand, muffling her moans and cries. She was trapped between his chest and the door, but there was nowhere she would rather be than in this storage room with him—well, maybe she’d take a bed or something, but she couldn’t wait for that. He slid two fingers inside her and her knees buckled, the heel of his hand bumping against her clit with every movement.

She threw her head back against his shoulder, exposing her throat to him even more. He took full advantage, kissing her, somehow finding that perfect spot at the base of her neck that made her feel like she was floating. She came without any warning. There was no notice, no buildup, as a furious bomb of pleasure exploded within her—starting deep inside and spreading to each of her extremities. She screamed against his palm and squeezed her eyes shut as he continued to touch her, drawing out every last drop of pleasure from her core.

When he finally released her, her legs felt weak, and she wasn’t sure she could stand on her own without Tom holding her up. He stepped back, and she gripped the top of a tower of banquet chairs that were stacked to her right.

He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. “Are you okay?”

Embarrassed at the way she’d lost control and become unhinged, Gemma’s laugh was more of a breathless noise that she’d forced from her lungs. “Yeah, I’m great,” she told him. “That was all just a...surprise.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That wasn’t what you wanted when you pulled me in here?”

She shrugged, trying to look cool and unaffected, but having already fallen apart intimately in his arms, there was no chance of that. “I didn’t really have a game plan when I did that. I don’t know what I was thinking.” All she knew was that she wanted just one stolen moment with him.

“Really? I think you’re lying,” he challenged her, crossing his arms, watching her. “I think you knew exactly what you were doing.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because we can both feel the heat between us. We both feel that pull. I think that both of us knew that if we were ever alone, it would end exactly like this.”

She couldn’t disagree. “Don’t get used to hearing this,” she told him, “but I think you’re right.” His chuckle was deep, lustful, and she wanted him again. “But I don’t think that’s how you wanted it to end.” She nodded at his midsection, where a very visible erection was still straining against his slim-fit pants.

“Honestly, I’d stay in here with you all night if I knew we could,” he said, shaking his head. “But we don’t have time or the space for everything I want to do to you. That can wait until later. But for now, I’m pretty sure we have dinner, and you have an award to claim.”

Even though his promise of later sent a shiver through her body, he was right. She could hear the crowd moving past the door, no doubt taking their seats for dinner. She had already been determined to be the big winner, and she couldn’t go up on stage looking like a thoroughly sexed vixen. “We’d better get out there,” she said, catching her breath. She straightened her dress and finger-combed her hair.

“You look great,” he told her with a wince as he adjusted himself.

“You’re just saying that because you want to get into my pants.”

He cupped her cheek with his left hand. “I’ve already been in your pants, Gemma, and I’m going to be there again. But it wasn’t a lie. You’re beautiful. Although,” he said, pulling her hair to cover her shoulder, “you might want to cover those little red marks.”

“Did you give me a hickey?” she asked. “I can’t go up there with a hickey.”

He took a closer look. “It’s not a hickey. It’ll fade in a couple of minutes.”

Their eyes met. “Thanks.”

He kissed her again, and this time the touch of his lips was gentle. He unfortunately pulled away before she had a chance to settle into his kiss. “You let me know the next time you’re feeling irresponsible.”

She laughed. “Will do.”

“You’d better get out there, Rexford,” he told her, guiding her to the door with a small smack on her ass.

She put her hand on the doorknob. “See you around, Cain.”

“Oh, you definitely will.”

With that promise in her ears, she opened the door and joined the group of people headed for the round tables at the front of the room near the stage. She took a seat with her brothers and their dates.

“Where have you been?” Reid asked her.

“We thought we’d have to send out a search party,” Quin added.

“I was in the ladies’ room,” she told them. “I just wanted a few minutes alone.” Quin seemed to buy it, but Reid was still watching her, eyes narrowed. He was suspicious. But she smiled and drank her water. Her eyes drifted over Reid’s shoulder to a few tables away, where Tom sat with some executives and representatives from Cain Rum. He laughed at something, the deep rumble traveling across the room and hitting her low in her stomach. Part of her wished she was sitting at his table—next to him. What would that be like? Would he would drape his arm protectively over her chair? Would she rest her hand on his thigh...?

She blinked quickly. Whoa! What was she doing? He’d made her come in a storage closet and now she was hearing wedding bells? Come on, she chided herself. They weren’t in a relationship, and they never would be. It’d just been a while since she’d been with a guy who could make her fall apart in under a minute. That was all. She thought of his promise of later, and she drifted off briefly into a fantasyland where they spent the entire night in her bed. Tom caught her staring and smiled, as if he could read her thoughts. Gemma looked away quickly, suddenly embarrassed and unsure of how she could let the guy get under her skin so soon. Nope, she told herself. It’s never going to happen again.

She let herself take one more look at him, though. He was still staring, and she felt heat crawl over her skin, starting at her chest, and she knew it colored her cheeks with the telltale sign of desire.

Right?

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